Love, Lust, and Draco Malfoy
by NeuroticMuse413
Summary: The werewolf’s curse forces Draco to seek asylum from the Order. When Hermione gets a little too close and Draco bites a little too hard, the two are forever linked. Can they resist their new animal attraction or will Hogwarts be split in two? 6th Yr, M.
1. Seeds of Defiance

**LOVE, LUST, & DRACO MALFOY**  
_By NeuroticMuse413_

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**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Harry Potter. Duh.

**SUMMARY:** Werewolf!Draco. Werewolf!Hermione. Draco makes the ultimate sacrifice to save his mother. Back at school, he commits an unforgivable act and now he and Hermione are forever linked. Can they resist their new animal attraction or will Hogwarts be split in two by their new allegiance to each other?

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Sacrifice was not something taught to Malfoys, especially not those in the Death Eater sect. Draco had been taught the darkest of arts. He'd been taught to inflict torture and enjoy it, to disregard the pleas of the lower people… Hell, he'd even been taught knitting once. But sacrifice was beyond him. It required caring for someone other than himself and he had found long ago that caring only led to pain. Not the good pain where your toes curl up and your eyes roll back in your head with forbidden ecstasy. It was the type of pain that emotionally scarred and left useless its victims.

He didn't think he was capable of that sort of love. He didn't even think anyone cared for _him_ that way, not selflessly and whole-heartedly. He was more or less correct. It wasn't until Voldemort had called the Malfoys to his secret fortress in Spain that Draco realized there was someone willing to fight for him.

His mother.

After Lucius' failures and incarceration, the Malfoys were indebted to the Dark Lord. They owed blood. Draco's arm was marked. There was no way he could escape, nowhere he could go that he wouldn't be hunted. His mother knew this too well. Either they did as Voldemort asked or they'd be killed. Something about the mad glint in Pettigrew's beady little eyes told Draco the little bastard had been promised the honor.

He watched as two hooded figures clutched his mother's arms and walked her off to the dungeons. She didn't scream, didn't struggle. Draco wasn't sure what the Dark Lord was saying. He liked to talk too much and it had never really been relevant whether Draco heard or not.

Chaos. Mayhem. Kill all Muggles. Plan this. Plan that. Potter, Potter, Potter… Agh. It was all so fucking repetitive that Draco shut it off. But now, he just didn't care. All he cared about was the look his mother gave him just before they took her away to do who knows what. It was a look telling him to be brave.

Bravery… they didn't teach that to Malfoys either. They taught honor. Honor was given to those who survived and the honorable rarely survived. He didn't get up from his knees. He didn't run after her. He didn't offer himself in her place. She had done that for him. It should be him being dragged away now, not this distant figure he once believed was cold and indifferent. Not the only person who ever actually loved him.

"What do you want of me?" he whispered, looking off to the now closed dungeon door from his place on the floor.

The Dark Lord stopped his speech and Pettigrew squealed in anticipation. A punishment always followed an interruption, even a whispered one, but only silence filled the room.

"Look at me!" Voldemort finally hissed, slamming his fist on his stone chair so hard that he drew blood.

When Draco tore his eyes away from the door, everyone saw the change and stiffened. The fear was gone, replaced by a sense of duty and resentment, the seeds of defiance. And Voldemort knew he had lost one of his dear possessions. He had lost the only one close enough to Potter, to Dumbledore… his prized Trojan horse.

And there was only one solution now. When the horse can no longer run, death is sometimes better for the owner than waiting for the horse to fail.

Draco had to be retrained or killed.

-----

Hermione sat at the Weasley's breakfast table, Crookshanks rolled up in her lap. The house was considerably quieter now that the twins had gone off on their own and Ginny spent most of her time consoling Harry out in the yard. She hoped that taking him outside would liven his spirits more and raise suspicions less but Hermione could see right through them. Something was growing there, a possibility she had foreseen long ago.

Ron sat across from her at the table, making swirly shapes in his oatmeal with his wand. She had seen something between her and Ron as well. She wasn't as dense as he was. She had admitted her feelings to herself, mainly out of courtesy to her own sanity, but a glass wall seemed to stand between them. Even now in the kitchen she had grown to love and feel nothing but warmth for, she saw only the boy through the wall.

"Hermione, you're staring off again," he mumbled, levitating his bowl over to the sink. He'd stopped eating which she interpreted as concern for Harry. She wondered if he knew about Harry and Ginny. He was dense, she knew, but was he blind? A small smile curled at her lips at the thought of Ron's reaction to his best friend and his only sister.

He raised an eyebrow and repeated his statement. He called her name twice before she finally snapped out of it. "Yes, Ron," she answered, continuing to smirk. "I stare off. I mumble. I'm two fries short of a Happy Meal. Why does this still surprise you?"

He furrowed his brow and went to reply lamely when Mr. Weasley popped up on top of the table, sending Hermione's oatmeal bowl crashing to the floor. He had someone with him, a long, thin man with pale blond hair. He was shirtless, obviously tortured and bleeding. His long hair fell over his eyes but Hermione knew those long-fingered hands anywhere.

Draco Malfoy.

"MOLLY!" Mr. Weasley bellowed. "MOLLY! COME QUICK!"

Ron scampered out of his chair and helped his dad and the stranger down. If Ron knew, he would never lay a finger on the injured man. The hatred Ron was capable of was only otherwise seen in Beverly Hills high schools and fire ant colonies. Hermione didn't know Malfoy but she knew he was capable of a similar hatred. After all, he hated her with all his heart, every fiber of his being. And now, here he was in her beloved kitchen, her sanctuary, bleeding from cuts all across his back, one next to each other in neat rows.

This was worse than the Unforgivable Curses, she thought.

Mrs. Weasley's pudgy self came running down the stairs, her duster still in hand, and screamed bloody murder as soon as she saw her new guest. Hermione just froze and stood aside. She knew she didn't have the upper body strength to move "the body" and she wasn't sure if she was capable of aiding her enemy so easily.

So many harsh words had been spilled from his vile lips, so many insults. So many, many tears. Just thinking about that ridiculous sneer, her hands clenched into fists and a ball of something sour gathered at her throat. But seeing him like that.

_It's not Malfoy,_ she told herself. _It's just a boy in need of help. You're better than him. You can do this. No one knows healing charms better than you. You can do this._

She unclenched her fists and gently ushered Mrs. Weasley aside to get a better look at his wounds, a determined look on her face. Everyone stopped screaming and watched her watch the unconscious Draco, examining him. It was almost as if all she saw were the wounds, like his skin was made up of puzzle pieces needing to be put back together.

Harry and Ginny came running in hand in hand, quickly separating when Ron shot them a suspicious look. "What's going on?" Harry asked, frantically worried they'd come for him, that yet another person had been hurt in his name.

"Is that--" Ginny began but couldn't finish the statement. Instead, her hand shot up to her mouth should she utter his name by mistake. "Is he--"

"He's badly hurt," Hermione analyzed, scanning the bruises leading down his side, into his pants. She gently unbuttoned his pants to get a closer look, careful to look only at the bruise. "Damn. It looks like he's been kicked in the side repeatedly so he's probably got some internal bleeding too. I don't even want to say anything about his back. Let's just pray the wounds weren't enchanted."

Everyone nodded, the bruises and cuts too disgusting to deny Draco treatment. They weren't going to let him die, as evil as he was. Whoever sent him to Mr. Weasley knew this. A trap? They all thought it but no one said anything. It didn't matter.

"Let's take him to Percy's room," Mrs. Weasley mumbled, still too stunned to speak. "Hermione, can you handle the wounds?"

Hermione gulped. What had she gotten herself into?

"Yea, the baser ones. He really needs to get to St. Mungo's though. I'll heal him enough so he can be moved but I don't know the extent of it all. I'm not a healer!"

"Do what you can, love," Mr. Weasley gently offered so Hermione would calm. He placed a hand on Draco's filthy, pale shoulder and a pop later, they were upstairs. The other ran upstairs to meet them. "I can't be moving him anymore. Every time I do, he jerks about in pain."

Ginny slid her hand up Harry's arm and he pulled her into a hug so she wouldn't have to look as the wounds resealing under Hermione's care. The others left but Harry and Ron stayed, lingering cross-armed against a wall -- wands at the ready -- to make sure she'd be safe.

-----

Draco returned to consciousness sometime around noon the next day but he didn't open his eyes quite yet. It wasn't because he was afraid. Alright maybe it was but he would never admit it. He was terrified of who he'd see when he opened them. Would it be Pettigrew? His own Aunt Bella? Voldemort? Who would have the honor of torturing him next? If he kept his eyes closed maybe they'd think he was dead and leave him be. He breathed slowly so they'd think he continued to sleep.

He didn't know why but the pain had gone. He was… comfortably numb. He was resting on something better than the stone floors of the Spanish dungeon but not by much. Ah how he missed his beautiful silk sheets in his beautiful blue room back at the Manor. He'd even take the bed in their weekend cottage in Barbados. That one came with a merry troupe of maids at his beck and call, no nonsense ugly-as-dirt house elves to do his bidding.

Hmm… maids… Sometimes he wondered if all he ever thought about was sex.

"I think he's awake," someone murmured on the other side of the room. It sounded far away but he knew the dungeon was longer than that. This was somewhere else. The voice sounded so familiar, so innocent, but he'd been fooled before. Images of his 15th birthday party paraded through his mind. Forget the maid. Oh to be 15 again with Antonia Birkingstock undoing his trousers behind the maple tree in his backyard.

"Hey! You prat! Wake up!" sounded Ron. Hermione shushed him for being rude as Ginny walked over and poked Draco in the arm in one of few spots left unmarked. He'd have scars, they were sure.

Draco, recognizing the sounds at last, opened his eyes to find himself strapped to a bed in an obscenely small room with plain, dreary walls. On the wall opposite him, next to the only door, were his worst enemies looking possibly more uncomfortable than he was in this lumpy bed. The girl Weasley, the stupidest Weasley, Potter, and the curious-looking Mudblood walking toward him.

He groaned dramatically and sneered. They all waited for him to speak. They waited for a thank you but all they got was a simple, "Well, Weasley, if you wanted to strap me to your bed so badly, all you had to do was ask."

Hermione chuckled and looked to Ron who nudged Harry with his elbow and hissed, "I told you he was gay!"

Draco scoffed, though it sounded more like he was clearing his raspy throat. "And I only have eyes for you."

At this, Ginny and Hermione snorted but Harry and Ron refused to play along. Hermione ignored them and drew even closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, utterly fearless. She'd seen this boy from head to toe, wounded. She had the upper hand here but he still followed her with vicious eyes, scooting away from her as much as possible.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said with a disapproving smirk. "I saved your over-polished corpse so you best be kind to me or I'll put those cuts right back where I found them."

Her tone surprised him. She was so calm, collected, with not a hint of hatred. It was rare among Slytherins, nonexistent among his crowd, but surely contagious. His sneer died down and was replaced by his own flirtatious smirk.

"That so, Granger? Get a good look, did you?"

Unfazed, she replied, "Yes and you're hardly impressive. Your wounds however, are. So shut up while I check these bandages. Muggle medicine saved you some, I hope you know… Whoever did this to you was a right foul git."

His mood instantly soured. "Yes, they were."

Her eyes shot up at him, catching the change in tone. "Were?"

He leaned in closer and, with his cruelest tone, whispered, "I killed them. Impressed yet?"

She gulped as surreptitiously as possible and shook her head. "My best friend survived Voldemort. Countless times, I might add. It takes a lot to impress me, you son of a bitch. Being a murderer is not one of them, even if they deserved it."

Ron sputtered something followed by, "_Malfoy_ bloody well deserved it. If they weren't dead, we'd send the bastards who did this a fruit basket."

Hermione ignored Ron and went to undo one of the restraints on Draco's right arm.

"WHOA! WHOA! WHOA!" Harry, Ron and Ginny all shouted, taking a step towards her. She withdrew her hands, her heart beating fast.

"I've got a half naked man in a bed! The last thing I need is you lot getting my heart or _his_ racing! Now everyone stop acting like ticking time bombs. The sooner he's healed, the sooner we can send him off to jail with his father where they belong."

At that, Draco dropped all jokes, all civility. He didn't speak. He tensed up, causing some of his remaining wounds to sting but he didn't complain. Only Hermione noticed it and shooed the others away, locking the door behind her.

"Sorry about that," she whispered, almost to no one in particular, and finished undoing the makeshift ties on his right side so he could turn and she could inspect the enormous bruise he had yesterday. He only flinched once when her warm fingers first touched his clammy skin. It worried her what these people had done to him. She remembered third year when he screamed bloody murder for a little slash from a hippogriff. It hadn't been that long, right? He couldn't have changed so much in three little years.

Then she remembered herself three years ago, so naïve and innocent, back when her front teeth reached the floor and her hair had its own zip code. She wasn't quite as homely looking, she thought, but then neither was Draco anymore. His muscles had become more defined, especially on his arms, and he'd grown a good 5 inches since they first put that blasted Sorting Hat on.

She started humming a random melody and he relaxed, though neither spoke. He didn't say thank you after she retied him to the bed and he didn't say thank you as she left. There was just nothing to say.

-----

Mr. Weasley came to check on Draco later that night. Ginny had brought him his food and untied him. Arthur almost expected him gone and was surprised to find him sitting cross-legged on the bed, reading one of Percy's books that he kept under the bed. Unlike the ones under his mattress, these actually had plot though most were boring. It was easy to see from his face that Draco read them out of boredom rather than interest. Arthur made a note to have Hermione bring him better books.

"How are you, son?"

Draco snapped his book closed and set it back down on the bed. "I'm fine, sir. I appreciate you bringing me here and saving me but I'd appreciate you not calling me son. I have a father and I'd rather not think of him while I'm here."

Arthur nodded and sat down on the very edge of the bed, as far away as possible. His hand and wand were hidden inside his cloak but it didn't fool Draco. Arthur was no idiot. Draco could still turn on him.

"Have you been treated well? I know my children can be… rambunctious."

Draco smirked, thinking of Ginny's terrified stare. "I'm not filing any complaints."

Arthur livened up instantly and drew closer. "Excellent! Now, I think we can get down to business. Severus said you were—uh, well, that you suffered a…"

Draco cut him off. "I was bitten, yes."

Arthur gulped and went on to stutter, "Ca-Ca-Can I see the bbbite?"

Draco sighed and lifted up the flimsy shirt he'd been given, revealing the large chunk of skin taken off his right shoulder blade. Hermione had to have seen it, he realized. Did she know what it was? Did she hate him, fear him? Why the fuck did he care all of a sudden?

"Would you happen to know the next full moon?" he asked.

Arthur gulped again, this time so loudly that Draco could hear his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "I could find out for you if you'd like. I think it's a few weeks away."

"Good," he replied, picking up the makeshift cloth ties that had once bound him to the bed. "Because these things aren't going to be enough. I don't care where you put me. Bury me if you want. Just don't let me hurt anyone."

-----

Hermione stared off again at the stairs from the living room couch, surrounded by books. They'd gone to Diagon Alley earlier that day in search of books for school. Harry had even gotten Draco's books though she didn't know why. He was in no condition to return to school, wouldn't be for some time if they even allowed him back.

"Hermione, are you… worried about him?" Ginny asked. Hermione snapped out of it and found Ginny sitting next to her. They both jumped.

"Him?"

"Malfoy. We're not heartless, Hermione. I'm worried about him too. There's something different in his eyes. It's like… he's alive, and he's really hurt. I wish there was something I could do."

Hermione's lips curled into a smile but she didn't have the energy to keep the smile for long. It was true that she had stayed up night after night, checking up on him, worrying about him. When Hermione put her heart into something, into someone's care, it was hard to do things halfway. It was hard to give up on him just like that.

"Yea, I'm worried about him." An understatement but it was what Ginny wanted to hear.

Ginny didn't know the whole truth, neither did Ron or Harry. Even if they saw it, they wouldn't know what it was. That bite, she'd recognize anywhere. In two days, they'd be back at Hogwarts. In five days, Draco would go wild, and she couldn't be there to help him through it.

"Fuck it," Hermione hissed to herself, making Ginny catch her breath. She never cursed. Ever.

She watched Hermione race upstairs three steps at a time, a few books in her hands. She paced in front of the door before knocking twice and going in, not bothering to wait for a response. Draco was lying down shirtless on the bed, books at his feet. His eyes were closed but he wasn't asleep.

"What do you want?" he growled. She dropped the books on her lap and sat down on the little bed beside him. He scooted so she'd have space, an unconscious reaction to her presence. It was slowly becoming easier to be around her, easier than it had been with his "friends."

"I know your secret."

Draco's eyes opened wide. "I'm a Malfoy. I have a lot of secrets. You'll have to elaborate."

"You're a werewolf, aren't you? That bite on your shoulder. Do you know who bit you?"

He propped himself up on his left elbow and watched her, shaking his head. "When a giant wolf comes at you, you run away as fast as you can. You do not however stop to ask the nice monster his name."

"Voldemort has his pet werewolves. I thought maybe you recognized one of them."

He shrugged. "Nope. What's it to you? Once the Order puts me under special protection, you'll never see me again."

"They'll probably hide you among Muggles, you know."

He scoffed. "So I repeat. What's it to you?"

"It'd be… a shame."

The intrigue peaked. Did she think about him the way he thought about her, constantly to the point of obsession? He sat up and leaned in a little closer, trying to see the lie but not finding it. Suddenly hit with an awkward need to speak and change the subject, he took the books from her lap and started reading the covers.

Two were on werewolves, one was _Count of Monte Cristo _by Dumas, and one was an advanced potions textbook. She tapped the latter twice with her index finger. "There's a way for you to keep your human mind when you change. Professor Lupin taught it to me. Snape would make it for him. You drink it, you'll be fine. Just think of the change as… your period. Instead of Maxi Pads, you get a quick, flavorless potion and nap it out."

He was silent for some time, avoiding her eyes by focusing on the cover of the book. "Why are you telling me?"

"We're the good guys, Draco. It's what we do. I know sometimes the others forget that but I don't. I don't know if you're a prisoner of war or if you're an ally but if they don't give you the potion, you know where to come to."

"You can make it? You'd make it for me? I don't have to become that beast?"

She nodded, smiling brightly. Her hand subconsciously covered his on the bed and, rather than shoo her away or insult her, he did the first grand gesture of thanks Hermione had ever received from a Slytherin. He brought the back of her hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

She cleared her throat and stood, feeling a tad uncomfortable. "You have a lot of reading to do. I always say the best way to deal with a situation is to learn as much as you can about it. And it beats anything Percy's likely to keep in this horrid little place."

He nodded and opened up the first werewolf book, running two delicate fingers over the notes she'd made in her margins.

She headed for the door but turned back quickly and said, "I leave for Hogwarts in two days. I don't know where you'll go but, if you can, owl me. I know I can help. I know you want me to."

They shared a nod and that was the last they saw of each other.

The next morning, Hermione came in to check on him the way she always did but only found an empty bed. The sheets she'd snuck to him the second night he was there were folded up on the bedside table. She knew she wasn't supposed to care, that he had been a pet project and nothing more, but she couldn't help but feel a deep sense of loss, even a little anger that he had left without a goodbye. Malfoy always had to have the last word.

He'd taken the books with him though, even the ones Harry had gotten him at Diagon Alley. Wherever he was now, at least he had Edmond Dantes to keep him company.

-----

CHAPTER TWO NOW UP! Reviews are better than half-naked Dracos. And yes, she gets bitten next chapter. Muahahaha!!!

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	2. So you say he's gone?

**CHAPTER TWO:** _So you say he's gone?_

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Even though she knew it was ridiculous to hope to see his face, she looked for him within the corridors of the Express. She surreptitiously searched for him but most corridors had the doors closed and she couldn't draw any attention.

You're an idiot, she told herself and followed Harry and Ron to the first open space they could find.

Soon after, Harry was called off somewhere by Slughorn and she and Ron were left alone. Ron had been made a Prefect too, which surprised the shit out of her though she did not comment. She didn't talk much to Ron anymore, not that she ever really did. She could tell Harry her secrets, share her thoughts openly, but Ron was another story. He felt he had to comment on everything, judge and often disregard her opinions. If it weren't for Krum, she'd have thought all men assholes instead of just idiots.

She knew Ron didn't intend to be a jerk. He just didn't know how to act around girls. She wasn't the only one whom he mistreated so she didn't take it personally. It wasn't love he felt for her. There was jealousy there but that was just a symptom. Love was the ultimate disease.

Ron didn't know she'd been offered the Head Girl position. He didn't know she'd turned it down. His ego would never understand it.

"We have a problem," said Harry, standing in the doorway with eyes wide as Hedwig's.

Hermione jumped up and grabbed his arms, shaking him into speaking. "What is it?" she demanded. Problems with Harry usually involved great evil, great peril, and a buttload of broken rules. "HARRY! What's happened?"

Ron ran up behind her and pulled her away. "It's Malfoy," Harry whispered, staring off at nothing. "He's here."

Ron sat Hermione and Harry down, both too stunned to move by themselves. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "Dad said they were debriefing him in the Ministry."

Harry shrugged. "That's not the problem... He's Head Boy."

Hermione jotted out past Ron, into the corridor. She ran down looking for him, desperate to see how he looked, desperate to ask him what the Ministry had done to him, whether his wounds hurt too much. Then, when she saw him laughing with Blaise in the far back of the train like nothing had happened, she thought she was going to vomit up her heart.

She didn't realize some stupid Ravenclaw was walking behind her and shoved her out of the way, screaming something about Gryffindors always thinking they're better than everyone else. She didn't take her eyes off Draco, who stopped laughing immediately and turned towards her. From across the hall, she could see the dark circles under his eyes, the way he wore his cloak and his hair long so nobody could see the scars.

"What do you want, Mudblood?" he spat, his tone harsh but his eyes emotionless. She took it as a hint. Tell no one.

She took two steps forward and stopped, reclaiming control of her heart. It was the same boy in that room, the same boy with whom she shared no glass wall and no restraint. They hadn't changed him.

"I was told you'd been made Head Boy."

"Yea, so what? Don't tell me you're Head Girl." He and Blaise burst out into laughter again. "Is Dumbledore really so desperate?"

She smirked, which made them stop almost immediately. It was a knowing smirk, as if she knew something they didn't.

"He must be now that I turned him down."

The hall went silent. Some people left their seats to peak into the hallway. "Who took your place then?" asked Blaise.

"I don't know. I don't think he's filled the spot. I might just take it up again. Someone's got to keep you Slytherins in your place."

And with that, she turned around and sauntered joyously back to her place with Harry and Ron.

-----

"Are you serious, Ms. Granger? You wish to be Head Girl again? I was about to give the position to Ms. Bones," announced Dumbledore in his office.

When Professor McGonagall let him know about Hermione's change of mind, Dumbledore demanded to speak with her immediately.

"I'm always serious, sir."

The professor leaned back in his chair, doming his fingers in thought. "Would this have anything to do with---"

"Draco Malfoy being Head Boy? Of course. I healed his wounds when the Ministry found him. I know Snape got him here and I know he's only Head Boy so the other Slytherins don't tear him to pieces when they find out he was in Ministry hands even for a second."

"Ms. Granger, that isn't—"

"Right right. That's not the reason. Could it be that he howls at the moon? Could it be so no one's suspicious of his disappearance every month? What excuse were you going to use, sir?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat and Hermione knew she'd gone a bit too far. She'd never tried to manipulate a teacher in anything, let alone the Headmaster, but she needed to take care of him. She needed to be there, close to him.

"Am I assume that Harry knows as well?"

She shook her head. "He doesn't know anything. Neither does Ron or Ginny. I saw the bite when I healed him. I know what he is and what's more, I know how to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone."

Dumbledore didn't need anymore explanations. He could see something in Hermione that her friends hadn't seen, the cause for her determination.

"You know I cannot be held responsible for your safety if you knowingly choose to commune with a werewolf," he said, for no reason at all. She knew it was so.

"I know, sir. I can take care of him."

A moment of contemplative silence and indomitable staring later, Dumbledore leaned back in so she'd know to listen well. "Yes, Ms. Granger. I'll allow you back as Head Girl." She stood up, about to leave with the joyous information, when the Headmaster cleared his throat. "But I ask one thing: Who will take care of you?"

She knew he didn't require an answer. He knew her feelings. He also knew that is was less than probable that they were returned and that when her self-deluded reasons expired, she would need her friends for comfort, whomsoever they may be.

-----

Draco followed the hallway on the fifth floor north towards the portrait of a little boy named Liam, according to the plaque below the frame. He greeted Draco with a bow and a wide smile.

"Hello you there!" he said. "Have you a password for me?"

Draco sighed and closed his eyes, trying to remember the word. It was hardly in the forefront of his memories or his worries. "Detlef Shrempf?" he whispered, unsure of its pronunciation.

The boy laughed and, bowing again, stepped aside. Draco took a deep breath and walked inside, expecting to see Hermione waiting for him on the bed. She'd never been waiting for him. He usually waited for her.

At least this room was better suited for waiting than the gray-walled prison he'd inhabited that week. The bathroom wasn't by his head anymore and it shared a bathroom with the room on the right. His was navy blue. Hers, whoever "she" would be, was burgundy red. Both has similar pale wood fixtures and white curtains. Two windows per room as the standard, as were four-poster bed. These were at least somewhat more elegant than the ones in Slytherin House.

He saw his belongings on the bed. He'd been allowed to go back to the Manor to pack some things. He hadn't taken much, just the essentials and his dear books. They smelled of her, of parchment and dried ink, not that he would ever admit to smelling anything or anyone.

He didn't unpack though, afraid of where he'd be taken next. From now on, he had no home and was at the mercy of the first official who said he was no longer worth taking care of. If Dumbledore hadn't allowed him back at school, who knows what would have happened to him. The first place they'd look was the Manor.

He didn't unpack but he was too tired to wait for her. He set aside his books and fell asleep on his side. For the longest time, he hadn't dreamt. That night, he dreamt of home.

-----

Hermione couldn't focus on dinner. She knew Draco wasn't at the Slytherin table and it worried her but she had grown to accept his new separation from his usual group. It was for the best. It just made his movements a little less predictable. She had hoped to sneak a few looks his way.

"You're what?!" Ron screamed, breaking her out of her train of thought. Neville had been telling him something about his toad and it seemed he let slip Hermione accepting the Head Girl position. "Why didn't you tell us?"

She laughed. "It's not important. Really. I mean, you got Prefect, right? We both got sort of promoted so it's no big."

"Prefect isn't the same thing as Head Boy."

"Well, Ron, do you really want to spent the rest of the year running after sniveling little first years the likes of us or do you want to go to Slughorn's party and actually enjoy it?"

He groaned but acknowledged her logic. "I'm tired," she admitted, which wasn't a lie. "I'm going to go see what my new room looks like. Don't toy with the first years, aye?"

They nodded and watched her go. She had become somewhat motherly in the last few years. She'd always nagged but now she acted like a mother after the birds had flown the coop. She couldn't control Harry and Ron anymore, not that her screaming logic at them ever really worked. They still got into stupid trouble and they still somehow come out of it alive.

"She's gone mad, that one," Ron whispered to Harry. Ginny giggled and scooted closer to Dean Thomas at the same time so Harry just nodded and murmured something incoherent as he stared at them from across the table. Ron kept talking about something to do with Quidditch but he might as well have been talking to himself.

-----

Hermione greeted Liam and stepped inside. Her books were waiting for her by her bed, along with her few trinkets. The girls always thought she was mental for having two trunks devoted entirely to books. Then finals rolled around and nobody thought she was crazy anymore.

"Hello?" she whispered. She crossed the bathroom into the darkness of Draco's room. If he wasn't there, where could he be? Before she could worry, a dark mass on the bed started to flail around, shivering uncontrollably.

"NO!" he screamed again and again.

She reached for her wand and yelled out, "Lumos!"

Draco writhed atop his sheets, curled up into a ball, screaming bloody murder. "Stop it! Draco! Malfoy! I'm here, stop! Stop it!" she yelled back, trying to shake him awake.

Before he could wake, he let out a ghostly, monstrous growl and pulled her down atop him, rolling her over. Straddling her, he ripped off her robes with unnatural strength, and lowered his head to her chest. His teeth, sharp as a wolf's, tore into the skin just above her left breast and bit down hard.

She screamed, pushing him off with all her strength, but it was too late.

Draco fell off the bed, waking suddenly with the taste of blood in his mouth. He heard her screams from atop the bed and stood, going to her aid. He knew it was her. The taste of her blood somehow called her name.

"Granger!" he yelled, crawling across the bed to her side. She pushed him away and rolled off the bed herself, standing against the door. Her chest rose up and down too quickly to follow and the blood and sweat were mingling onto her ripped clothes. Her hair stood up at odd angles, not that it was too noticeable from its usual state.

"Stay the hell away from me, Malfoy!" she yelled, raising an arm between them, gesturing he stay on the bed.

"I did this?" he whispered incredulously, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "My god, Hermione, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry! I was asleep! I promise I wouldn't have done this!"

She stopped shaking with fear and slid down the wall, her hand over her chest wound. "What have you done?" she growled. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

He shrugged, unsure of how to express his apology. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."

"You don't get to say my name," she said through gritted teeth. "I hope you're happy… I'm like you now."

-----

_Chapter Three coming this week! No, I haven't abandoned my other stories. This just came to mind. They'll have to deal with Ron and Harry and this strange new desire building up inside them. No, they don't have sex right away. What kind of girl do you think I am?! Lol. _

**Reviews are better than being straddled by Draco Malfoy.**

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	3. Self Control is for Sissies

**CHAPTER THREE**: _Self-control is for sissies_

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_Thank you all so much for your support. I got home from my bi-yearly trip to the beach (yes! I am no longer ghostly pale!) and found 50 messages from people adding me to their story alert lists, favorites, and of course reviewing. You have no idea how happy it made me. So much that I bring you the next chapter early! Enjoy! _

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She got up and stumbled towards the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. He paced before his bed for some time, listening to the shower blare on well into the night. He finally decided she couldn't deal with this alone and rapped his fists on the door, hoping she'd hear him over the shower.

"Hermione! Open up! Don't aggravate the wound or the scar will be worse!" he called, hoping his tone was enough to convince her he was honestly worried, but she didn't open, didn't make a sound. He worried maybe she'd collapsed and got his wand off the bedside table. He took a moment to make up his mind before he opened the door, unsure of what he'd find.

Just as he thought, Hermione had collapsed naked on the floor of the shower, probably from blood loss.

"Fuck!" he hissed and opened the shower door, shut off the water, and knelt down beside her. Normally, he would take his time to admire her condition but all the blood was sickening. It took all he had to carry her out without vomiting. He couldn't believe that he'd done this to her, that he'd hurt someone like this. He held no hatred for this girl. Anyone else, he would shrug it off but this was _Hermione,_ his last true ally.

He lifted her up and carried her into his room. He covered her with his sheets and smoothed the hair back from her face but she needed medical help. He pondered it for a little bit and decided there was only one person he could trust: their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Snape was reading in his study when Draco came running in, looking more harried than when he showed up to Snape's doorstep that summer bleeding from head to toe. "Mr. Malfoy!" he yelled, closing the door behind him. "Where are you hurt?"

"What?" He looked down and realized Hermione's blood was all over his chest from when he carried her to his bed. His shirt stuck to his chest. "No, it's not mine! It's Granger's!"

"WHAT?" Snape hissed, shaking the boy by his arms. "Draco, what did you do? IS SHE DEAD?"

"No! No! But she might be if you don't get her some help."

"What happened, Draco?"

Draco sighed and stopped tugging on the professor's sleeve. He caught his breath and finally, his voice filled with shame, admitted, "I bit her."

"YOU BIT HER?!"

"Yes! Stop yelling at me! Stop repeating everything I say! I get that I did a bad thing. I'm a vile, loathsome little cockroach, not an idiot." He stopped, suddenly realizing what she'd meant all those years ago. Despite the situation and his extreme worry, he stopped to think of her. This wasn't some girl he'd hurt. It was HERMIONE. This new mutual acceptance _was_ new but she'd been there forever, in the corner of his eye just out of focus. But now, she was in full view and he didn't care who found out about him. "Screw it! If you're not going to help, I'll go straight to Pomfrey. I don't care who sees me."

He turned to leave but Snape caught the sleeve of his shirt and spun him back around, slapping the back of his head. If Draco insisted on acting like one of the Potter gang, he was going to be treated like one. "Don't be stupid. Of course I'll help. How long ago was she bitten?"

"Does it matter?" he asked honestly. "It was maybe three hours ago. She stormed off to wash off the blood and collapsed in the shower. I don't know how long she was out but she's lost a lot of blood, sir."

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, it matters. If you'd come to me sooner, we might have been able to control her symptoms," said Snape, climbing the stairs in his study to reach for a vial of dark green potion. It bubbled even in the vial and didn't look too appetizing. "I can't do much about the effects of the bite now but this will restore her lost blood."

Draco took the little vial and stared at it. "This little thing? I nearly _kill_ her and you're telling me this little vial is going to bring her back to me?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at his choice of words but Draco didn't see and Snape didn't voice his many, many concerns. Hermione was the issue right now, bringing her back. He reached across the study for a box of long, slimy weeds and handed them to Draco. "Put these over the wound and it'll heal it while controlling the pain. Since neither of us can handle higher healing spells, we'll have to depend on our potions and they've yet to fail me, boy."

"How do I get her to wake up?"

Snape sat down on his little chair and crossed his arms. "That she'll do on her own and it's best to let her rest. When that girl wakes up, you better make sure she keeps her mouth shut."

Draco didn't care who she told. He just wanted her safe. He nodded and ran back to the fifth floor where Liam slept in his little rocking chair. He whispered the password and the door opened of its own accord. He rushed inside and found her sleeping still, her chest barely rising. She was slipping away. He lifted her head gently and poured the vile potion down her throat.

"Please, 'Mione," he whispered, stroking her hair. "_Don't leave me… Don't leave me…_ Don't!"

He pulled back the sheets and placed the slimy seaweeds over her wound, careful not to expose her full breast. She wouldn't like that but she wouldn't like if he killed her either. The last thing he needed was an annoying little ghost with bad hair haunting him for the rest of his life.

An hour later, she moaned. He had never been so happy to hear someone moan.

"Draco," she whispered though her eyes were still closed. She was saying his name in her sleep and he wondered if that was a good sign or if she was dreaming up ways to strangle him in the night. Either way, her face looked considerably calmer, smoother. He even imagined a smirk on her pale lips.

Dawn was approaching and he wondered whether he should take her bed for the rest of the night or if he should watch her. Deciding he couldn't stand to be in the next room, even with the bathroom doors open, he rested his head by her hand on the bed, letting the adrenaline die and exhaustion win.

-----

Hermione woke up with a strange sense of time. She felt as if she'd been sleeping for months, not hours. Her eyes were heavy and felt bruised. She tried to move and realized all of her hurt, not from Draco's attack but from being immobile and constricted on the bottom of that shower.

Realizing she was no longer wet and that someone had found her, probably naked, she sat up in a hurry. Screw the pain! She had to open her eyes. She had to know how far the rumors had spread.

But no. She wasn't in the hospital wing. She wasn't surrounded by a smirking Ron or worrisome Harry. She wasn't clothed but she wasn't naked. And she didn't feel any pain from where Draco had attacked her. She brought her fingers to her heart, feeling the slime from the weeds and it instantly clicked in her mind.

Fersum weeds, meant to heal and numb.

Then, her hand wandered to the edge of the bed where Draco's blonde head snored gently beside her. She gasped, remembering him, his touch. Had he… carried her out? Had he saved her? Ok sure, it was his fault to begin with but it was still nice of him and Draco was never nice. It didn't escape her that they were alone, that she was in his bed. The green vial was sitting empty on the bedside table and she could see the dried blood on his limp hand atop the sheets.

She sighed and stroked his hair, hoping he wouldn't wake. It felt like silk through her trembling fingers. She didn't feel herself. She didn't know why she didn't just wake him, why she wanted to enjoy his presence just a little bit longer before he opened his eyes and his tormenting trap of a mouth and a thousand hidden insults spewed out.

A fight was going to come next. She was going to call him an idiot and a brute and a monster and he was either going to apologize or ignore her or insult her. And she didn't want that.

She looked out the window on her right, to the flocks of owls coming to bring them news. It was breakfast time and she was late. They had to keep up appearances. So, she nudged him and called out his name. Her voice came out hoarse and far away as if it came from someone else's lips but it did that the trick.

He mumbled something about earthquakes in Chile and lifted his head slowly. As soon as the sunlight through the open window burnt out his retinas, he let out a shrill string of curse words and rubbed at his eyes. She couldn't help but smile but quickly erased it from her face to hide the evidence.

"Good morning," she said sternly, pulling the sheets up over her heart.

He saw the weeds still on her chest and everything about last night came crashing back into his memory. "Hey!" he squeaked, sitting up straight in his chair. His smile knocked the air out of her lungs and not necessary in a good way. "You're awake!"

She nodded, unable to speak. She let a little bit of her smile escape and pulled up her sheets even higher. "Did you do this?" she asked, picking up the empty vial.

"I might have gotten some help from Snape."

She nodded as if in approval. "So… Pomfrey never saw me?"

"No no. Turns out I didn't kill you after all," he whispered with a small sigh of relief. His hand subconsciously covered hers on the bed, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze before he got up to stretch. "I've got class in an hour. I think it might do you good to skip today."

She laughed with disbelief. "What are you, crazy? I don't skip."

He took a step back. "What? You want to go to class with a gaping wound in your chest and you think I'm the crazy one?"

She rolled her eyes and went to stand, realizing she was naked under the sheets. She gave him a disapproving look. "You mind turning away?"

He scoffed. "I've seen all there is to see, Granger," he complained but turned nonetheless. She wrapped the sheets around herself like a toga and slid her way past him, through the bathroom, and into her own room. He didn't hear the locks and took it as a good sign.

He took a quick shower to get her blood off and ran to gather his books. He'd already skipped dinner and now breakfast but he didn't have time to stop if he wanted to make it to arithmency. Then, he remembered Hermione would most likely have the same class and knocked on her door to check up on her.

Should he be checking up on her? Would she like that? He just didn't get girls like Hermione. Did they want their doors opened for them or would it insult them? He just didn't get feminists, witches or otherwise.

"Yea?" she called, her voice strained. She didn't want to shout. It felt like sand had been poured down her throat.

"Are you okay?" he shouted back. "We've got to get to class!"

She groaned and came to open the door a second later. He stepped back when he saw her pleading eyes and the bandages she was trying to wrap around herself. "Can you help me with this?" she asked, unsure of his response. He looked at her, confused. "You know, to tie them up?"

He gulped, trying to ignore the fact that she had her skirt and socks on which had never looked more devilish. The whole Catholic schoolgirl thing took a whole new meaning when the girl was Hermione and, well, topless. She held the bandages atop the fersum weeds to cover herself but it brought back memories of last night, of her whole naked form at the base of that shower. It hadn't been erotic back then. It was now.

A moment had passed, one too long for comfort. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her back on him, going back to try to tie them up with her wand though, having to wrap them with her back to the mirror was too hard. She couldn't see what she was doing.

He snapped out of it and shuffled towards her, taking her wand away briskly and going to tie them for her. She held her breath without even realizing it, surprised by his decisive moments. She'd never seen him just take action like that. It was a little bit exhilarating.

He left, his task managed, not even bothering with a goodbye. Hermione had never felt so much like a burden on him. She hated that he could always make her feel less, even when he was the one at fault for all their troubles.

-----

The topic of her change wasn't brought up. In fact, they didn't talk to each other all through class. They didn't even sneak a glance. Hermione focused on her notes, unable to raise her hand once should her bandage come undone. It was a new kind of torture. Did Draco know she was in pain? He answered more questions than usual and she wondered if it was for her. She couldn't stand the silence of the classroom, of having questions unanswered. If he answered them, even if she didn't get the glory, she felt better.

Harry and Ron had tried to ask her questions about last night, about why she looked so harried but she ignored them completely, continuing to hum a random melody.

"She's humming," Ron hissed in Harry's ear. "Is that normal?"

Ginny choked on her pumpkin juice at dinner. "Guys, she's busy. She's always busy. Leave her be."

Harry squinted his eyes at her. "You're covering."

She pretended to look hurt. "I am not!"

"She is not," Hermione agreed, her voice scaring them all. She hadn't talked all day.

"She speaks!" Ron shouted. "Hallelujah!"

The table laughed in unison. Ginny looked down, hoping they could forget about her defense now that Hermione was back and smiling.

"So tell us!" Ron asked, poking her twice with his elbow. She flinched but didn't show her true pain. It hurt to move. She took the chance to look across the hall to Draco who seemed focused on his mashed potatoes as if they were made of gold. "What's it like living next to Malfoy? Does he alphabetize his socks?"

Hermione giggled with the rest of them but she didn't really know. She shrugged it off. "Sorry. I have my room. He has his. I mean, we share a bathroom but I haven't cross over to the other side, if that's what you mean, Ron."

"Oh yea," he grumbled at her disapproving tone. "She's back."

Suddenly, her chest started to burn. She couldn't hide the pain any longer and bent forward onto her arms. She stared down at her half-eaten plate and felt nauseated by its smell. It was so strong. She knew what was happening. The noise in the Great Hall suddenly erupted and she thought she might not be able to contain the tears much longer.

Nobody was paying attention to her, thank God, so she composed herself quickly, took a swig of her water, and uttered the first excuse that came into her mind. "Sorry guys but I've got some plans for the first Prefect's meeting I have to go through and I'm kind of liking my secluded little room to work in. If you wanna stop by, I'm on the fifth floor, east wing behind the portrait of Liam."

"Wait wait!" Harry sounded after her. "Which one's Liam?"

"Just read the plaque!" she yelled, waving back at them. Ginny tried to take over the conversation again, allowing her to escape. But, as soon as Hermione rounded the corner, she reached for the wall to stabilize herself. Her chest weighed a thousand pounds and her legs weren't strong enough to hold her up anymore. She repeated Malfoy's impressive line of curse words from this morning and tried to make her way to the fifth floor.

She collapsed onto her bed some time later, bathed in sweat. The sheets clung to her skin as she tossed and turned, glad that another day was over and she could rest, even if only a moment.

----

Draco knew what was happening to her. He had experienced the same thing when he was bitten but he'd been bitten by a wolf on the full moon. There was no reason for Hermione to be experiencing it too. He wondered for the first time _why_ he had attacked her last night. He wouldn't change quite yet, right? He still had time. And as far as he knew, he hadn't turned into a wolf completely or else nobody in Hogwarts would be left alive, let alone Hermione who spent the night alone with him.

Were they so close to the full moon that she got the full force of the curse? Would she become a werewolf herself?

He spent an hour in the Slytherin common room, trying to avoid suspicion but it was obvious to Blaise that Draco had not eaten well, looked sleep deprived, and his hair wasn't even sleeked back as usual. He looked… unkempt. Although, given his father being in jail and a buttload of other reasons Blaise certainly didn't know about, gave him ample reason to look so, Draco was not the type to let things affect him.

After some quick excuses, he hurried back to the fifth floor to check on her. The bathroom doors were open so she wasn't angry. She was just… asleep? Tomorrow they might both be turning. She needed to get started on the potion tonight! But he couldn't dare wake her. Could he?

She'd tried to wake him last night and look what happened. So, he went to turn back towards the bathroom door when she called out his name. Another moan. Hs knees buckled and he couldn't take another step. His vision spun.

"Hermione?" he whispered, turning slowly in place. Her eyes were still closed. She was still asleep.

His knees started to regain their strength so he went back on his course when there she went again. "Draco?"

He snapped around. She was sitting up in bed, her hands flat by her side, and her eyes firmly closed. She looked like a zombie, recently risen from the dead. "Are you awake?" he asked at full volume. If something was wrong, it would be better if she were awake.

"Don't go," she whispered, opening her eyes. They were a honey gold, unnaturally feral. They scared him, despite the beauty of them. She stalked towards him but the gold was spreading. She looked deathly, her limbs frozen stiff as she walked. This had not happened to him, not as far as he knew.

"Granger, what the fuck's happened to you?" he sneered.

She didn't reply, merely smirked and ran her fingers down his cheek, down his chest, and finally down his shirt. When they reached the rim of his pants, they made their way back up under the soft cloth of his favorite shirt, now tainted by this memory. A low growl escaped her lips but Draco was frozen. He couldn't do a thing to stop it. Hell, he didn't even know if he should, if he wanted to. His shirt was going over his head but all his blood was flowing downward.

"Fuck," he whispered as she moaned his name yet again. Her eyes roll back into her head, swallowed by the gold, but all she did was touch him. She didn't even touch anything interesting. Then why was his skin on fire, every pore filled with a kind of electricity he had never felt before?

She was… exquisite.

"STOP!" he finally managed as her hand came back down to his pants. It wasn't right. It wasn't right. But why did it feel so amazing to be touched by her?

It didn't matter. As quickly as a blink, the gold receded and Hermione snapped awake. Her mouth wide open in shock, she stared at where her left hand met his bare abdomen. Her breathing was so jagged like she'd just run a marathon or battled a great foe. Draco felt the same, exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.

"Fuck," she echoed guiltily but he couldn't help the smirk. This was the girl he knew, partially as it may be. He was so glad to have her back but she didn't understand the smile. It scared her, scared her to know she wasn't in control anymore. Two wolves, one home… no trust.

The fear looked too much like disgust and he took a step back. He clasped her hand much too tightly, a warning, and said through gritted teeth, "Don't you ever do that to me again unless you mean it."

And he left her there, frozen in mid-step, wondering why she did this and what would come next.

-----

Chapter Four coming soon! Oh yea. Hermione's the one in heat. Giggles.

**Reviews are better than unexplained sexual attraction.**

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	4. Take Care of Me

**CHAPTER FOUR: **_Take care of me_

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_Hey guys! Sorry for the long time between updates. I was without internet for two days. I nearly started convulsing. I'll be in Georgia for three days so I'll post when I return. Nothing too big happens in this chap because it's a bridging chapter. It's mostly fluff. Enjoy!_

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He didn't sleep. At all. He spent most of the night reliving "events" with Hermione and it was starting to become a dangerous tradition. After some hours of staring at the roof, his eyes were blood red and his palms hadn't stopped sweating since she first touched him.

What was that? Was it a new symptom? Or was it her?

Whatever it was, he was going to have to stay away from her now more than ever. He took the sun's slow rising as a sign to take action and instantly shot up off the bed and locked the door to the bathroom. Screw the shower. He was too cold to sweat and too tired to move. Resisting urges was harder business than they say in historical romance books and teen health pamphlets.

He had just finished putting his Advanced Potions book in his bag when a timid knock came at his bathroom door. "Draco?" she called. It was just after dawn. Had she slept? "I know you're awake. Please, would you open the door? I just want to talk to you face to face."

He froze, his book still in hand, and stared at the door. He couldn't reply.

"Come on," she continued. "Fine, if you're going to be a jerk about this then I'll talk to your door but you need to hear this."

She heard his slow footsteps nearing the door then a soft raspy sound like thick Hogwarts robes sliding against the bathroom door. She did the same and turned her back to the door then slid down to the bathroom floor. He still didn't speak but she took it as a sign that he was listening.

"Look, I know what happened was a little freaky but… I want you to know that it wasn't me. I would never do that to you. I know you went through a lot this summer and I'm sure you don't want to be in the company of people like me. I know we sort of got stuck together in this and after the other night, well we have a lot in common now. And it's awful, these circumstances, but I'm glad you're okay and that I got to know you better this summer. If you'd died in the Dark Lord's hands, I probably would have gone on thinking you were a bastard. Okay, you _are_ a bastard but considerable less so than I once thought."

She heard him shuffling like he brought his feet up to hug his knees. She could hear a pin drop. It was a definite perk of whatever she was suffering from.

She sighed and continued, "Having said all that, I think we should stay away from each other for a while. I mean, we can do _this_ – we can talk – but it might be safer if we don't come into contact until we both get a hold on this curse… Okay?"

A moment of silence followed, too long as always. She was about to give up when his tiny, distant voice sounded a sure, "Okay."

And she smiled, a small bit of hope entering her heart. "Okay. I'll see you in class."

-----

Hermione took lunch off to get started on the potion for the night. She didn't know if she was going to change too so she figured she'd make three just in case anything happens and one isn't strong enough. She skipped the meeting that night to work on it but she sent Draco a note through Ginny.

Draco was sitting against a window near the exit to the lake when Ginny surreptitiously dropped the folded note in his lap. He jumped but when he saw his name written across it in _her_ handwriting, he relaxed.

With a heavy sigh to prepare himself for the worst, he read:

_Malfoy,_

_I can't be there tonight. Take over the meeting for us. Make sure the Prefects split up the patrol evenly and don't let Ron partner with anyone other than a Gryffindor, preferably male. I don't care if it'd be funny. Don't tempt murder. I love Ron but he's an idiot and has the temper of a two-year-old. And try to be polite! I'm going to be working on the potion for us. The change should start after ten so make sure you're in your room at nine. I'll take it too just in case and I'll leave your vial in the bathroom. Lock ALL the doors and I'll tell Liam not to open up for anyone. _

_Take care,_

_Hermione_

He folded and unfolded it again and again. He knew she didn't mean it like that, that it had just slipped and that this was a hastily-written note between classes, but everything after "I love Ron…" seemed inconsequential. He realized maybe she really did love him. He always joked about her and Weasley getting married and moving into a little hovel somewhere but was it true? Did she have someone else? Had she ever been loved, been taken care of the way she takes care of him right now?

He told himself to ask her one day when they were closer, when she was a little closer to being his. After all, it was the Malfoy instinct to want what they could not have, to buy things that are not for sale. Hermione's affection was no exception.

After all, she had already become his whole world. Why should he be the only one to give up everything?

"Mr. Malfoy?" came a booming voice above him. He didn't have to look away from the window to know it was Snape. It just surprised him that he hadn't heard anyone coming. Maybe he had but was too lost in thought to register it.

"Hello, Professor Snape."

"Crabbe and Goyle said you were here. Is tonight the night?"

Draco nodded, watching a drop of water slide down the outside of the window. The stained glass features were beautiful as ever, so simple yet so intricate. "Hermione's making the potion. Don't worry."

"I know. And I never worry, Mr. Malfoy. Dumbledore wants to see you."

That, as Snape knew it would, snapped him out of his thoughts. "What the fuck for?"

Snape slapped the back of his head. "You're your mother's son too, Mr. Malfoy. Be sure to remember that. I thought you were over your little cursing spree. Now go on! The Headmaster is waiting!"

Draco stood and scurried before the Gargoyles.

-----

The potion was waiting for him just like she said. She kept her promises, he noticed. Maybe he should take a page from her infinite book of morals. Just a page though. Anything more and he'd turn into a Gryffindor. Draco in gold and red just wasn't natural. It clashed with his soul.

He set down the blue chains Dumbledore had given him by his slippers and downed the vial in one gulp. He didn't even bother to grimace at the taste of the potion. This was as close to having dinner waiting for him as he was going to get.

"Draco, is that you?" she called from her side of the bathroom door.

"No, it's the ghost of Christmas past," he joked as he paced by his bed, undoing his cuffs.

"Do you feel any different?" she asked, staring down at her hands which now felt a little numb. She'd been sitting on them for an hour before he arrived though so it didn't really count. She was more nervous than she would ever let on.

He shook his head before realizing she couldn't see him. "No!"

"Me either!"

He got close to the door so they didn't have to shout. She followed suit and sat down in her spot by the sink. She decided if they couldn't touch, couldn't see each other, this was going to be her little place for a while.

"I guess we just have to wait," he said calmly, sitting down too. A little time passed and it was now 9:30. "Hey Granger?"

"Yea, I'm still here."

"What are you doing? I can't hear you moving. Don't leave me here."

"Reading."

He noticed she liked one-word answers when she was otherwise entertained. He'd ask her things back at the Weasleys and, when she was busy tending to his wounds, she'd reply simply. When she sometimes brought him his food and watched him eat, she'd spend talk for hours. He smirked at the memory of them. He didn't like having to thank Weasley for anything.

"Of course," he said with a sad smirk. "You ever see a person turn?"

"Yup. Professor Lupin in third year."

"Did it--" he began but couldn't finish. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer. "Did it look like it hurt?"

She didn't want to laugh but she didn't really care. If this was something she was going to have to do every month, she knew they would get used to the pain eventually. Turning was like sex, only lonelier. Well, now that they had each other, even through the bathroom door, it was better than nothing at all.

Lupin had the Marauders. She had Draco Malfoy. Something told her she was on the losing end.

"It doesn't matter, Draco. The pain is momentary and then you're something different. You're at peace again. You just… fall sleep. I added it to the potion so we wouldn't suffer for too long."

"Aren't you scared at all?"

She realized he wasn't asking anything. He was telling her, practically screaming for her to realize. _He_ was scared. He was alone in his mind, in his heart. Even if she was there, even if she gave everything of herself, he would still leave this school alone, afraid to bring anyone else into his shadow world.

"I know we said we weren't going to see each other but just for tonight, do you think we could at least unlock the door? If something happens, I don't want to be alone."

She heard the lock unclick above her a second later and relaxed.

A few more minutes of silence passed but she couldn't focus on her book anymore. She set down _So Your Friend is a Teenage Werewolf_ as the pain in her chest started. It felt like her ribs were being spread apart by someone's bare hands, like her skin was being stretched out over a drum.

She groaned and reached for the doorknob but her feet wouldn't work. She picked herself up and pulled the door open. Draco was collapsed on the bed, his legs dangling over the side. His fists were balled up in the sheets and his face would haunt her memories for years. So much pain.

It wasn't the physical pain, she knew. It was as though he were fighting with himself to stay human. He would do anything to turn back time, to take back whatever it was that made him this way. She would do anything to keep him just as he was. This sickness had brought him to her, had allowed her to save a little bit of him. Who's to say whatever they were wasn't for the best?

With the foolish possibility of fate over her head, she crawled with new strength to his side. All open-ended lust was gone. There was only concern for him. Her hand gripped his fist on the bed and they watched the gold overtake each other's eyes. Their bones reformed, their hair spread, and their muscles bulged.

And then, just as Hermione had predicted, they were at peace again.

He groaned like a puppy and brought his muzzle to her paw, licking the back. It brought back memories of their last talk at the Weasley's, of his gestures and his kiss of gratitude. She whimpered a reply in their unspoken language and they climbed up onto his bed. They rolled up into two little fur balls side by side and fell asleep.

-----

Draco was the first to wake. His owl was pecking at his bedroom window, coming to deliver a note from Snape asking how the night went. He took a moment to catch the way her hair caught the morning sun, making the bushy hair seem tame and curly. He could have stayed there all morning, watching her sleep, testing how close he could get before she woke up, but the owl kept pecking at the window glass.

He groaned and carefully slid out of bed, not bothering with sheets. The owl started to hoot, tired of waiting in the cold morning breeze outside the window.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" he hissed softly. He unhitched the window and tossed a coin out for the owl to fetch. He was going to see Snape anyway so he didn't bother writing a reply. He just wanted to get back into bed, back to Hermione. Even though she slept and he was free to let his eyes wander over her body, he knew she would disapprove.

"Good morning," he whispered in her ear as he covered her with his sheets and slid a pillow beneath her head. She was still rolled up in a little ball but her shape was her own, not the wolf's. She took care of him last night. He'd take care of her in the morning.

"Good morning," she echoed, her eyes still closed. She suddenly jumped up, raising the sheets over her breasts. "Goddamn it! Can't I wake up clothed at least once? Is there no justice in this world?"

He laughed because he already had his blue plaid pajama pants on. He looked like he was part of the room. "Hey, we're even. Besides, you've seen better, right?"

She blushed and slumped forward, unwilling to move. He brushed some wild strands of hair back from her face and the burning in her chest was ignited again. The gold spread from her irises out and a hoarse growl rose in her throat.

He continued to smile at her, wider and wider. "You're sexy when you're trying to eat me alive."

The growl got louder but he didn't move. She tried to jump at him but found herself pulled back, retrained. "Chains?" she asked, the gold slowing and receding. The chains were a rusted, blue-black color and magically connected to the floor. Her mind was clear again and she sighed with relief.

"Dumbledore suggested them."

Her eyes shot wide open. "WHAT? You told Dumbledore about the other day? I didn't mean for that!"

He laughed, making her even madder. "Don't worry! I told him I was the one in heat. He doesn't know you're… like me. I don't know how long that'll last though since Snape knows I bit you."

"I was hoping I wouldn't change after all but I guess you bit me too close to our turning date."

He sighed and started for the bathroom door. "I hoped so too," he called. When he returned, he was carrying the clothes she'd laid out the night before. "It seems I'm still in your debt."

She tugged twice on the chains to check their strength and muttered sourly, "You don't owe me anything, Malfoy."

How he hated the way she said his surname, like it was a curse instead of a title. He turned so she could dress, listening for the tugging of the long chains. He took his time before putting his shirt back on. Girls had been tempting him for years. He liked the effect he had on Hermione, even if it was involuntary, and let her struggle with his nudity a little longer. He knew it didn't make her his. It just made her his victim.

"I do, Hermione," he whispered to himself more than anyone. "I owe you more than you'll ever know."

He slid his shirt on, tied his tie, and slipped on his robes. He told her the keys were in the bedside table and ran for the door, trying for dear life not to catch her expression as he left.

-----

Hermione watched him go, watched him move for a long time waiting for him to turn. She had a smile waiting for him. Despite what could have been a horrible transformation, she woke up unbelievably rested. Most nights, she went to bed thinking about a million different things. She worried for Harry and Ron, worried endlessly about her classes. But that night, she could do nothing but rest beside him and take in the sandalwood sheets.

She couldn't believe that she had felt safe in those chains. If he had wanted to, he could have tied her up to the bed and taken everything he wanted. Then, it occurred to her, maybe he didn't want her that way. He kept telling her to stay away in his own little way. He'd seen her naked a couple times already and hadn't made any snide comments, hadn't insulted her by demeaning her.

Maybe he hadn't changed. Maybe he just didn't care.

She had always safeguarded her body, as she was taught. She never wore skimpy outfits, not so much as a miniskirt. She was classy and she made damn sure she wasn't seen as some sex object. So why did she feel a little hurt that Draco didn't see her like that? It had to be this werewolf thing. Who knows what it could be doing to her head, her hormones?

As she unlocked herself from the door, she began to think of Ron and what he might have done if he'd woken up to her the way Draco had. Would he have made some sort of silly joke? She imagined him getting red from head to toe till his freckles were lost to his embarrassment. She smirked as she slipped on her shoes, all the way to breakfast.

She met some of her group on the way to the Great Hall. They didn't really greet each other. A silence separated them. Harry was the first to confront her, his arms crossed and forehead creased like a worried parent about to scold their child. "What happened to you yesterday?"

She and Ginny stifled a giggle. "Nothing, Dad."

He unfolded his arms but the crease wouldn't go away for days. "No, Hermione! You know you can't disappear on us! People keep dying on me and I can't just have you—"

She didn't let him finish. She covered his mouth with her hand and pulled him and Ginny aside into an empty classroom. Ron slept in a little so she was spared having to tell him. Harry and Ginny could handle it, she told herself. They were rational, right?

"Look, there's something you need to see and you need to promise me you won't freak out because no one is dying and everything is under control," she began. She waited for them to nod in encouragement before continuing. She tried to form the words but it was just easier to show.

So, she undid a few buttons and pulled down the neck of her blouse, exposing her still unbound wound. It was healing quickly but it still looked like a chunk of skin had been gnawed off by… well, a wolf.

Ginny gasped and covered her mouth while Harry stared silently with wide-open eyes. A few minutes passed and Hermione redid the buttons.

"'Mione…" Ginny breathed. "Who did that?"

She thought about whether a lie might be more helpful but none came to mind. She was too relaxed. Her reflexes were dulled in this form, her mind adrift. She tried to snap out of it but no amount of blinking or head shakes could do the trick. The others must have thought she was high or something. Maybe she was.

"It was a mistake. He didn't mean to do it and it doesn't hurt or anything so don't worry. It was an accident. I've forgiven him but…"

Suddenly, Ginny whispered, "It's a wolf bite. You—You were bitten by a—a—a werewolf?"

She nodded. "Malfoy."

They all turned to Harry who seemed unable to speak, move, breathe… They waited for him to react but nothing came. "Do you reckon he's had a heart attack?" asked Ginny. Hermione shrugged and poked him in the chest.

"HE DID WHAT?" Harry erupted all of a sudden. Looking to the wound on her chest, he started putting two and two together though, being Harry, he somehow landed on three. "Did he try to rape you too? I'm going to kill him."

-----

**Reviews are better than waking up to a naked Draco. **


	5. Bad Bedfellows

**CHAPTER FIVE:** _Bad bedfellows_

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_I'm back from Georgia! I haven't read all of your reviews but I was told there were quite a few. As always, thanks. And as always, please continue. Hee hee. I actually planned this story out so watch out for more updates! I'm always open to suggestions on passwords for Liam too. Let's see if you guys get where the one from this chapter is originally from. _

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They tried to hold him back but it was too late. Harry was already speeding down the corridor in search of the Slytherins. He zoomed right by Parvati, nearly elbowing her in the nose as he went. He found the far left table and scanned quickly for heads of white-blond hair. It wasn't too hard to spot Draco. He was usually the bored-looking one with the hordes of Slytherin girls ready to throw their knickers at him.

That was why it took Harry so long to find him. He was alone. Crabbe and Goyle had taken to serving Blaise Zabini and, though a small horde of Slytherin girls did still surround him, Draco looked absolutely miserable. For a split second, when their eyes met, Harry almost felt sorry for him. Then, he remembered the bite on Hermione's chest and blew it all to hell.

He stormed right up to Draco, picked him up by the collar, and punched him across the jaw.

Perhaps what was more surprising was that, despite all the rage Harry had put into his punch, Draco didn't fight back. He just looked at his assailant with drowsy, weary eyes and calmly said, "Are you done?"

Harry stared in awe. He gave a single slow nod and turned back towards the door, storming right back out.

Hermione was watching from the entrance to the Great Hall, her hand over her mouth, and shot Draco a small apologetic smile before running after Harry and Ginny. When they turned the corner, Harry pulled her in and asked through gritted teeth, "Who. Was. That."

"What?"

"That was not Draco Malfoy. I don't know what you've done to him but that wasn't Malfoy."

She laughed softly. "See? He's different. And if anything, _I_ tried to rape _him, _Harry... No! Wait! That didn't sound right. We're not like that. As if I would sleep with Draco!"

"Draco?" he growled. "Now he's DRACO?"

She took a deep breath and gripped his arm, trying to keep him from going back and finishing the job. She had to explain to avoid a massacre. "We live right next to each other! We're bound to talk to each other! I went to check up on him the other night because I heard he was having nightmares and he bit me while he was asleep. He didn't mean for it to happen!"

"And now? You're a—"

"A werewolf? It's not a dirty word and it's not such a bad thing. As long as we take our potion, we're fine. Harmless even. We just… fall asleep."

"Hermione," Ginny sighed, taking Harry's arm. It was her job to keep him steady, not Hermione's. Even if they hadn't spoken it aloud, she knew she was all Harry had sometimes. "Don't tell Ron, okay?"

Hermione nodded furtively. "What am I, stupid? I just might need your help once a month to keep Ron and the others in the dark. Only you guys, Draco, and Snape know I'm one too. Not even Dumbledore does. Who knows what they might do to Draco if they ever found out he bit someone at school, especially a student from a rival house. Just please. I need someone else to talk to about this."

Harry shook his head and turned to Ginny. "Do you think he could have bewitched her to like him? It's possible, right? I'm not crazy. It's possible!"

Ginny's face told him it was doubtful. "They're not screwing each other, Har. She's not turning evil. She's like Lupin. Remember how much he suffered without his friends, without your dad?"

Ginny knew what buttons to push, Hermione had to admit. "Yea, I remember," he finally whispered, a tad ashamed. "I remember."

And that was it.

They didn't have to say anything more. Instead, Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and hugged him tightly. As they left, Ginny gave Harry's bruised hand a tiny squeeze and Hermione knew those two would always be alright.

-----

When they returned to the Great Hall, it looked like a bomb had gone off in there. Draco was being dragged away by Snape by the robes. Crabbe and Goyle were still trying to escape Hagrid to jump over the table at Ron and Seamus and Jason who were being held back by Professor Sprout.

"What the hell's going on here?" Hermione asked one of the girls nearest the door.

"Gryffindor's trying to finish what Potter started!" she shouted back over the uproar. Her eyes – every eye in the crowd – had a mad glint to them, like they actually enjoyed all the violence. They wanted a fight. They wanted blood.

Blood.

It was dripping down Ron's face like he'd been struck in the temple with something, certainly not a fist. Hermione thought she was going to vomit. It brought back too many memories of adventures through mazes and preppy Harry to battle dragons. As exhilarating as it must have been for the boys to fight, she only had horrible memories of being stuck behind worrying and stressing over whether her potions and spells would work.

She didn't want to know what happened. She didn't care who started it or if it was even her fault. She didn't want to check up on Draco, though she knew he probably needed her for healing spells or company. She knew he could handle the healing parts well enough and he could handle being alone for a couple of hours. He needed to think about the crap he got himself into. She wanted him to feel guilt.

At the thought, she felt worse. She didn't want to be alone anymore but she didn't want the others to see her weak and crying. She didn't even make it around the corner before she diving face first into the nearest potted plant.

She wandered the halls for some time before finally returning to her dormitory. "Draco?" she called out lazily, dropping her bag on the floor by her bed. "Are you here? Do you need some help?"

She entered the bathroom and pressed her cheek to the door. She knocked, in case he was sleeping, but heard nothing. She couldn't even hear breathing. She called his name again, hoping to hear anything, but still nothing.

She turned the knob just to check and found it open. It was unlike him. He wasn't there. The worrying thoughts she usually had for Harry and Ginny were suddenly shifted onto Draco. Without her knowledge, he had become one of her wards. For some reason, it didn't scare her. If anything, it made her understand her strange attraction to him even more. It wasn't lust, she told herself. That was just the curse. It was this maternal worry that came from deep within her.

She sighed and decided that she was probably worrying for nothing. Snape had dragged him away, not Dumbledore. If he got into trouble, maybe it was for his own good. Nobody knew about her yet. Draco would never tell. So, she figured Draco probably deserved what he got and she should do nothing.

Hermione had never acted so stupidly but at least she slept a little better believing she wasn't in love with Draco Malfoy. Not yet and not for some time.

-----

"Do you know why you're here?" Dumbledore asked, his thin hands folded atop one another on this desk. Draco stared at the baubles on the table, pretending he was somewhere warm and far away. He imagined Hermione in a little bikini, waiting for him on a beach chair in the Virgin Islands with a martini in either hand. "Mr. Malfoy?"

"Because I was in a fight on school grounds," he recited lamely. It wasn't the first time he'd been brought for judgment, especially for fighting. The town below Malfoy Manor was home to a few rebels who loved to play mind games on Draco. It wasn't unprovoked but, despite his distaste for physical action, he wasn't above a few spells on the locals. His father often rewarded him for it, got him excused by the Ministry for using magic. But if he lost…

Dumbledore raised both white eyebrows. "Well, no," he said, sounding genuinely surprised. "I was referring to the letter that arrived at the school this morning about—"

Draco stood up quickly. "Is it news from the Order?"

Dumbledore gestured for him to sit back down but the surprise was still in his eyes. Genuine or not, Draco had to comply. This sad old man controlled his last little sense of sanctuary. "It arrived in a Malfoy family owl. Since Lucius is in Azkaban completely cut off from the outside world and your mother died prior to your escape from Spain… She did die, didn't she Mr. Malfoy?"

He gulped and looked to Snape who hovered behind Dumbledore with crossed arms. He'd told no one, not even his – for lack of a better word – friend Severus. His silence said everything and he could no longer look the old men in the eye. His vision landed on Fawkes and his lungs suddenly felt empty. Fawkes, at mid-life, was a gorgeous golden red with wings that unfolded like a dream around him.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Severus growled. "Mr. Malfoy! Is Narcissa alive or not because if this note was a hoax by The Dark Lord, we need to know."

"What did the note say?" he finally whispered.

Dumbledore took the note from a drawer in his desk and slowly pushed it towards him. The note was written in blood atop a piece of white cloth which Draco knew was part of his mother's dress. Flashes of memory made him woozy. His mother's calm demeanor as they carried her away, the screams of a woman in the distance as they tortured him…

"How did you really escape, Draco?" He shrugged. "Mr. Malfoy, we have been patient for some time given your state when you escaped but we will not continue to—"

"I don't know if she's alive!" he finally yelled, standing up again. Dumbledore followed. Snape reached for his arm as if helping him stand still. "They took her away and then they tortured me! I don't _know_ what happened to her! I don't know if she's alive! But I can tell you she did write this note and nobody else can call upon a Malfoy owl so she did send it. Whether under duress, I don't know but she had to have written this."

A moment of silence. Dumbledore gave a slow nod and solemnly said, "You are free to go. We will call upon you if more information is made available."

"May I keep the note, sir?" Malfoy replied, his lips one hard, thin line on his hard face.

Dumbledore sat back down slowly. It was Snape who nodded. "It serves us no more purpose."

Draco reluctantly thanked him and started back towards the entry, towards the gargoyles. He opened the door, only to find Ginny waiting there with a face much like his own. "Whoa!" he shouted, trying to avoid running into her. He'd already gotten punched for messing with Hermione. If he so much as touched Harry's girl, he might as well bid his testes goodbye.

"Is Harry in there?" she asked, forgetting entirely who he was. She might as well have been talking to her brother.

"No, no. Just Snape and Dumbledore. Why?"

"I can't find him and Liam's not letting me into Hermione's room because she's asleep."

He gulped, nodded, and gestured for her to follow him. He tried to explain. "She told Liam last night to keep everyone else out in case the potion didn't work right. She didn't want one of you guys walking in and getting mangled."

Ginny nodded as if she was listening but he could tell by the determination in her eyes that she was scared.

He knew to keep up a conversation as they walked. It might help her relax. "No offense but why aren't you asking your brother for help?"

"The idiot's in detention with McGonagall, and I already checked there for Harry."

"Why do you need to ask Hermione? She wasn't at the fight."

"She stepped in at the last minute. Maybe she saw where Harry went. And if not, she knows how to find him."

His curiosity was peaked. "What do you mean?"

Ginny stopped and tensed. "I shouldn't tell you. You're still a Slytherin."

He laughed. "The Slytherins didn't even help my sorry, wolfy ass when it was being kicked by Ron. So don't worry. My loyalties are to no one but myself."

She didn't laugh back. She didn't even look him in the eye. Her lips remained pursed, her jaw set. "Somehow, I think loyalties to yourself are more dangerous than loyalties to Slytherin. We know what they're capable of. You are a mystery and we're not all like Hermione. We don't think rainbows shoot out of your eyes just because you're a defenseless little git. You're a charity case, Malfoy, and look where it's gotten her. I love her. We all do. Don't think we'll _ever_ stop watching her back."

The rest of the walk was silent. The halls might as well have been empty. He could barely bring himself to whisper, "Davros" to Liam. The door swung open and he made his way inside first. Hermione was indeed inside her room, resting gently on her side across her bed. He wanted desperately to wake her, to see her smile the way she did that morning, to watch her cheeks pink up with embarrassment.

"You wake her," he commanded from the bathroom door, his hands behind his back as if trying to starve temptation. Ginny didn't look at him twice, despite her suspicions, and went right to her side to wake her.

"What is it, Draco?" she mumbled dreamily. Draco's lips curled into a smirk at the sound of his name but he quickly suppressed it at Ginny's disapproving look.

"No, 'Mione. It's Ginny. I need your help."

She sat up quickly, inspecting to see if she was clothed. Draco stifled a giggle.

"What's up, Gin?" she asked, looking rested and surprisingly jolly. She scanned the room and found him leaning against the wall by the bathroom door. "Oh hey, Draco."

He smiled sheepishly and nodded as if saying his job was done. He quietly made him way back to his room, his mother's note burning a hole in his pocket.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked Ginny, both watching him go.

Ginny leaned in to whisper, "We need to find Harry. I figured you knew how to use the Marauder's map."

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "You check with Ron, with—"

"Yes!"

She got up and walked to the portrait entrance. "I think I know where he went." She stopped and walked back to the closed bathroom door. "You gonna be okay, Malfoy?"

There was no reply but she knew she'd only be gone a few minutes. What could possibly happen in a minute?

-----

Draco sat down on his large window lattice to get the most light. He unrolled the bloody piece of cloth again and read for the sixth time:

_Help me. Please. Seneca is gone. I am all that's left._

-----

The Quidditch field looked abandoned from afar but Hermione could see a small shadow on the grounds. They looked up and saw his outline behind the clouds, moving at incredible speeds. He was letting out steam.

"How did you know he'd be here?" Ginny asked, leading Hermione to the empty stands. They sat down and stared up at the ominous clouds, waiting for Harry to tire.

"Harry has three things he cares about. Our friendship, Quidditch, and…"

Ginny cut her off. "Getting Voldemort. I know. I know," she said, rolling her eyes.

Hermione laughed, nearly slipping off the wet stands. "Actually, I was going to say you. How's it been going with him?"

Ginny had frozen, turning her stare onto Hermione's laughing form. Her hair was still standing up on one side from her nap but it was still strange to hear her laugh so much, so freely. "Screw me and Harry! What's going on with YOU?"

"I'm—Nothing's up with me! I'm a freakin' werewolf, Ginny! Pardon me if I change a little."

They both laughed, not realizing that Harry had landed and was walking towards them.

"What about Malfoy?" Ginny asked as Harry came to sit beside her, looking tired and sweaty. Hermione smiled at the way he leaned into Ginny, so comfortable around each other. She wondered if she and Draco had grown so used to each other. "He didn't look okay. I found him coming out of Dumbledore's office."

Hermione nodded. "I'll check on him later. He'll be fine."

"But 'Mione, what was up with the way he stood across the room?"

She scoffed. "He's afraid of me." Ginny and Harry stopped inching closer together and looked to Hermione. Their eyes begged her to elaborate. "Stupid werewolf curse."

They gaped at her with dropped jaws. "Excuse me?"

"Don't ask. I think I'm in heat. If we get too close, I try to jump his bones."

Their eyes widened. Harry cleared his throat and said, "Hermione, I think I speak for the whole of civilization when I say DON'T SCREW MALFOY!"

"Pfft. Like that's going to happen."

-----

_Don't worry. Just because they have decided they're only friends doesn't mean they aren't going to get back together. It's not always fun if they jump in the sack on the first chapter but I didn't say they couldn't sleep together. And I know you're going to hate me for this but next chapter will be a bit Hermione/Ron. Sorry!_

**And as always, reviews are better than being the one to console Draco after this.**


	6. Befriending the Enemy

**CHAPTER SIX**: _Befriending the Enemy_

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_I was inspired! And so, I updated a bit earlier. I was a little sad that I get so many hits but so few reviews. Oh well. More fluffiness and bonding here before a major plot twist. I can't believe I've made it six chapters without having them sleep together. Heh. If this were The SpellMaster's Revenge, Hermione might already be pregnant. (Which she won't be in this story, in case you're wondering.)_

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Hermione dragged her feet back home – to the little room and the little boy she'd grown to see as home. She knocked drowsily on his bedroom door but he had failed to lock it. Against her better judgment, she pulled it open and watched him from the doorway. The whole room was bathed in the red light of dusk, casting a yellow glow on Draco's face.

He was awake, she saw. "Draco?"

"Hey," he sat up, startled.

She took a step in. "Didn't you hear me knocking?"

She saw the piece of cloth in his hand. He was trying to hide it in his robes. "Sorry. I was thinking."

Why wasn't he talking? Why wasn't he spouting witty remark after witty remark? "You sure you're ok? What happened with Dumbledore? Ginny said she found you walking out of his office."

She took another step in. "Stop," he shouted, extending a hand as if to push her back physically.

"I'm sorry. It's just… you look so sad. What can I do?"

He sneered. "Do you have to fix everything, Granger?"

"Yes," she said with a bright smile, ignoring his abuse of her name. Nothing was going to bring down her mood after that wonderful nap this afternoon and the wonderful company the night before. "I do."

He turned away towards the setting sky. "I'm going flying. Be back in the morning," he announced to the window, running for his broom in the corner then out the portrait hole.

-----

Draco entered the field calmly, his cold sweat making the broom handle slip in his hand. He didn't really care. He didn't care if he fell or if the broom slipped while he was in flight. He just needed to feel the breeze on his face, the sense of weightlessness and the fall.

The sweet fall.

He liked to play chicken at home where his father's magical barriers let magic be used freely without detection. He would rise to a good thousand feet before simply diving backwards or forward or wherever the wind took him. Then, a few mere yards from the ground, he'd call for his broom and be swept up again in a rush of adrenaline.

His elves thought he was suicidal. His father thought he was training for a fight. Draco just thought he was having fun.

As he prepared to mount his broom, he heard a soft voice in the distance call, "It's too foggy to fly tonight. I had to land and wait the mist to pass. I recommend you do the same."

He knew it was a masculine voice but the nonchalance and warning were almost Hermione-like. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. No. It was worse. It was Potter.

"What do you care?" he shouted back into the stands. He didn't fly off though, waiting for a response. Maybe he didn't really want to fly after all, not when there was someone there. Draco loved company more than he loved flying, perhaps the only thing he loved more.

Harry sighed and dropped his shoulders. He grabbed his broom and walked calmly towards Draco, the wind blowing his robes to the side so he looked like a trembling mirage in the desert. "Hold on," he said. "If you want to fly, I'll go with you."

Draco's eyebrows shot up at once. "With me?" he echoed. He looked around but they were alone. They had no audience, no reason to pretend hatred or scorn. The two boys didn't really know much about each other at all beyond that blind hatred that had now seemingly subsided in Harry. "What are you playing at, Potter?"

Harry mounted his broom beside him and smiled weakly. "I don't know, Malfoy. Maybe I plan to kill you in mid-flight and blame the fog."

They looked at each other, waiting for some change to reveal itself, but nothing happened. They chuckled and cast themselves free of the ground, up into the mother sky that still welcomed them both without prejudice. They didn't fly in any specific pattern. They raced the grounds without intent to win. They raced as if both hoped to escape something back on that field.

They ran from the creatures they were, hoping never to land. Because, once they landed, the fog would part and they would be rivals again. They both knew it and so they did not speak.

-----

Hermione hadn't thought twice. She shook her head in disappointment and went back to her room, knowing she should have objected to Draco leaving. There were a thousand different reasons why he shouldn't fly at night. He could crash and get hurt, could easily get lost, could get caught by a professor and expelled… but the only one that struck Hermione the most some ten minutes after he'd left was that Harry was still out there. Flying. As they both did best.

She gulped and threw the book she was going to read onto her bed. She didn't think twice and ran out in her nightgown through the empty halls towards the Quidditch field, only to find it empty.

And the worries returned. She sat down on the cold stands, hugged herself for warmth, and waited.

-----

They raced above the dark forest sometime after midnight when Harry began to lag from exhaustion. Draco slowed for his benefit but Harry was beginning to drag close to the ground, too close. They'd be entering the forest and even Draco knew the dangers were too great for them.

"Potter!" he shouted from above. "I'm growing tired. Let's head back."

They both knew it was Harry that was lagging but Draco had claimed weakness. That was proof enough for Harry that something was different. This wasn't Draco Malfoy. This was simply Draco.

He nodded and they skimmed the grounds all the way across the lake back towards the Quidditch field where Harry had left his bag. It was neutral ground. From that day on, their flights would always end there.

When they landed, a creature in jaunty yellow came running towards them. Her hair and her gown were blowing wildly in the breeze as she ran, her milky skin illuminated by the dim moonlight. Draco watched her come, watched the air from her lungs form a white mist before her lips and never wanting more to air just to be so near her.

As Draco watched Hermione near them, Harry watched Draco. "Put your tongue back in your mouth, Malfoy," he whispered jokingly. "I thought _she_ was the one in heat."

Hermione finally reached them and fell forward onto her knees. "What is… wrong… with both of… you!" she shouted in-between deep breaths. "I was… worried… sick!"

They laughed softly and stood beside their brooms like casual friends watching a show. Draco continued to watch her. Sure, he had seen her naked and he'd seen her in her wolf form and in her dress at the Yule Ball some two years ago, but he had never seen her bathed in moonlight in the strong winter breeze. It was like watching her float through water, as if watching a being made of air and mist itself dance with the breeze before his eyes. The yellow. He'd never forget the yellow of her short, flowy nightgown as it caressed her thighs and knees.

Her eyes had not met his stare yet for when it did, her eyes instantly turned the color of her dress.

She straightened, forsaking the cold altogether, and focused on Draco like he held some great secret in his eyes. She moved towards him step by careful step, slow as she tried to hold herself back. "Harry," she whispered painfully, another cloud of white mist escaping her lips.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "No, dear. It's Draco."

"Harry," she whispered again as her hand gently caressed Draco's stubbly jaw. "Harry, pull me back. For the love of God, pull me back."

Harry instantly jumped and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her a good ten feet back. She struggled like a wild animal to return to Draco but he just stared like a teenager visiting a strip club for the first time.

"Uhm, I should take her back to her room," Harry finally said, struggling to keep her from kicking him. She wanted to eat Draco alive. "Stupid werewolf curse."

Draco smirked. "Yea. Please… Nice flying tonight."

Harry felt an incredible unease at being complimented by Draco Malfoy so he could do nothing more than nod awkwardly and pull Hermione on. As they neared the entrance to the field, she finally regained control of herself and turned to Harry to say sadly, "Told you so. He's scared of me, with reason."

Harry laughed and answered, "Hermione, I don't know much about werewolves but, as a guy, I can tell you he's more afraid of what _he_ wants to do to you than what _you'll_ do to _him_."

She blushed madly and they snuck back into the castle in silence.

Hermione heard Draco come in some time later from the other side of her bathroom door. She heard him kick off his flying boots and set his broom down gently in the corner. She heard him open up his trunk, shower, and change, all the while hiding beneath her covers, praying he slept well.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he said softly from under his own covers.

"Goodnight, Draco," she replied as though she were sleeping right beside him. And they drifted off to sleep knowing they wouldn't have to be alone tonight.

-----

The next morning, Hermione had to deal with her Prefects but she let Draco sleep in since he had taken over the last meeting for the both of them. She slipped a note under his door, sure he was still lightly snoring, and went on about her duties.

When Draco awoke, he found the little piece of folded paper by his neat line of shoes. It was a simple note, telling him to sleep in and that she'd cover for him. She'd signed her name with no additive. No "love" or "sincerely" or "cordially"… He didn't take it personally. He'd have done the same.

He wasn't sure if it was the curse or his own new desires but he folded the note back up and slipped it into his robes' inner pocket so her scent would linger around him all day. It made it easier not to look up every time she entered the room, her scent so distinct now that they had spent a night together. Their wolf forms had bonded and it seemed their bodies wanted more.

Draco opened his book to find a note slipped inside, one from a very unusual handwriting. "Meet me in the girls' lavatory on the second floor during lunch. I need your help. –Potter."

Draco crumbled this one up and set it on fire to hide the evidence. He didn't think about whether or not he would go and took it as newfound trust between him and his enemy.

-----

Harry waited in the bathroom, his potion books laid out across the floor near the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. A bottle of ink and sufficient quills to write a novel awaited Draco when he entered fifteen minutes into lunch.

"What's up, Potter?" he entered cautiously upon seeing all the books. At least a firing squad wasn't waiting for him. "What is all this?"

"An olive branch, courtesy of Hermione."

"I don't understand."

Harry gestured for him to sit down across from him, to which Draco grudgingly agreed. He grimaced at the state of the floor and transfigured a pillow out of his bag to sit upon. Harry tried not to laugh.

"You're here," he began, "because Hermione – and Dumbledore too actually – think you know a lot about the enemy. And since any little bit could help us, I'd like to ask for your help on some potions and spells."

Draco scoffed lightly. This wasn't what he was expecting. "You want me to feed you information on the opponent?"

"No, I want you to feed me information on how to battle the opponent."

Draco looked at the books spread across the floor and nodded. "Fine. On one condition."

Harry sat up, stiffening. "Go on."

"I want to invite Hermione out to dinner. I want to know… well, what to say, what to do."

Harry's lips curled slowly into a smile. "You are so freakin' weird."

-----

Lunchtime without Harry or Draco was awkward for Hermione. She sat between Ron and Ginny and tried very carefully not to seem lonely or uncomfortable. She smiled, hummed, played with her food pensively… basically, her usual movements. But she didn't speak.

"Why so silent?" Ron asked through a mouthful of bread. She smiled at him and drew closer, realizing that his presence made Draco's pull a little less pronounced.

"Just thinking, Ron," she answered pleasantly. He got a little jam on his chin and her smile great brighter. "Here, let me get that."

She dabbed his chin lovingly with her napkin and watched him swallow, hard. He wasn't used to Hermione's loving gestures. Her usual gestures involved answers to homework and study help. "Who are you and what have you done with Hermione?"

She laughed, letting her hand fall on his arm comfortably. She didn't see Ron anymore. She didn't see some awkward little boy or her friend for years. She saw Draco. She saw Draco in everyone, and the bond they had formed in such a short time was enough to override any sense of modesty or fear.

Ginny stopped flirting with Dean and watched them from the corner of her eye, pretending to focus on her vegetables. She didn't like this. She knew Hermione had a new home, a new friend to whom she was subconsciously loyal just like Ginny would always be loyal to Harry.

Ron gulped one more time and swallowed his pride. He'd been waiting six years for this moment and damn it if it was going to be ruined now. He gripped his fork tightly and carefully asked, "Hey, Hermione? Would you like to go patrolling with me tonight? There's no one else I'd really like to go with and I've got the Astronomy Tower tonight."

She froze, realizing what he'd understood of her advances. She cursed in her head, loud enough to make Draco proud. Then, she realized she had nothing to fear. She and Draco were nothing. There was no love there, only a curse. And she said yes.

-----

Hermione returned to her room before heading out with the Prefects. She wanted to fix up her hair. She wasn't naïve. She knew what the Astronomy Tower was really used for on late nights. Who wouldn't fall under the spell of the stars, the romance of the brisk night air? Her, that's who. You can't fall in love twice.

"Hermione, that you?" he called from his side of the bathroom door, his lips almost pressed to the door.

"Hey!" she greeted joyously. She was so glad to hear his voice these days. She hated that she couldn't look at him during class or the heat would start and the gold would spread so she took much care of these little moments when she could speak with him unencumbered by pretense. "How did it go with Harry?"

She brushed her hair as he spoke. "Great. We talked potions mostly. That's more my strong-suit. He promised to teach me a Patronus later though."

"That's great! I'm so happy for you both."

He cleared his throat and went to speak when he noticed she'd sprayed on some perfume and put on some nicer shoes. She didn't change though. That would have been a sign of trying too hard.

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

She didn't hesitate, knowing he'd catch it immediately. She would feel no shame, she convinced herself. She was a free woman and it's not like Draco cared, right? "Yea, actually. I told Ron I'd patrol the Astronomy Tower with him tonight."

Draco's throat suddenly closed shut. It took him a second, one Hermione certainly did notice, but he finally answered in defeat, "Have fun. We'll talk when you get back."

He hated that he had to let her go. He never wanted to let her go. She walked out, humming a light song as he slid down the wall beside his door, thinking of all the ways Ron got to see her and touch her. He had done countless perverted things on that tower, had countless perverted things done to him. He couldn't imagine someone taking Hermione that way, any way that did not involve him. Jealousy was making his face boil, his hands clench and sweat. He told himself that it didn't matter, that while Ron got her in the day, he kept watch over her at night, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough, and he fooled no one.

-----

Ron was waiting for her outside the portrait hole. Liam bid them good luck and then the two were silently off for the Tower. As they expected, couples were gathered about engaging mostly in kissing. A few were getting a bit too rabid for their own good and Hermione quickly told them to back off but, all-in-all, it was a quiet night beneath the stars.

"I'm surprised you aren't sending them all to bed," Ron said, leaning his elbows onto the wall's stone edge. "You've never been much of a romantic."

She laughed. "But I am. Besides, I know how hard it is to find time to be with the one you care about. Who am I to deny them this little sanctuary? As long as we watch them, make sure no one gets hurt, what's the harm in letting them express themselves?"

Ron gaped at her with wide-open mouth. "Really?" he said, inching closer. Their arms touched and Hermione drew in looking for warmth. He gracelessly slipped his arm over her shoulders and drew her in to grant her more warmth.

"This is nice," she said a tad sadder. It was getting a bit too far. He was advancing. He was gaining courage. This was wrong. So wrong. She should stop it. But all she saw was Draco looking into her eyes. All she felt was Draco's flaxen, silky hair between her fingers in an instinctual caress.

And all she felt were Draco's lips as Ron drew closer and closer and closer until…

-----

Hermione returned home with shame written all over her face. His smell was on her. Ron. It had been a wonderful kiss, though not her first. It had been even a tad romantic and the residual feelings she had once felt for Ron had made her feel momentarily happy and fulfilled.

Then she saw Liam and she could barely whisper the password. "Are you okay?" Liam asked, swinging the portrait open.

She smiled weakly and tried to straighten her hair. "Yea, of course," she lied. "Never better."

She wondered if Draco could hear her lie from the other room. She could always tell how he was feeling from his voice, no?

"Draco?" she whispered, inching towards the bathroom. If he was asleep, maybe the guilt would be less. Of course, he wasn't. He'd been waiting for her to arrive like a worried mother after the senior prom but he said nothing. He did nothing, not so much as move so she would go to bed thinking he didn't care. The only thing that hurt him more than smelling him on her was making her feel like she'd hurt someone just for trying to be happy.

No, he could never do that to her, and he began to think that maybe he didn't just care about her like a brother or a friend or a distant lover. Maybe he loved her. Really. Truly. Explicitly. Disgustingly strong.

He didn't sleep again that night.

-----

_Aww. Sorry about that. It was actually one of my favorite chapters to write though, flowed right out. There will be a bit more Ron/Hermione before the dinner Draco wanted and a big confrontation later on. Everything will start crashing in on them soon and then boom! Excited? I am!_

_Also, the official cover to LLDM is now on my profile. Feel free to add me on Facebook or MySpace too. I love fan shout-outs. _

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**Don't forget to review! Why? Because reviews are better than Draco's stubbly jaw. **


	7. The Other Guy

**CHAPTER SEVEN**: _The Other Guy_

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_So, when I wrote this, I was basing their transformations on the 1996 lunar calendar, as per the books. Meaning, their first transformation took place August 28__th__, a Wednesday. Now, we all know Hogwarts starts September 1__st__ but for the sake of literary continuity, let's say it starts Monday the 26__th__ of August. Therefore, the next full moon would be September 27__th__. Yes, it's important. Lol. Because everyone also knows Hermione's birthday is on the 19__th__. _

-----

Draco could barely stand the next morning. His muscles had tensed so much, trying so desperately not to move all night, that he thought he pulled something. He wobbled out of the room so she wouldn't have to hear the pain in his voice. It still hurt. Everything about last night.

Since he didn't really talk to his old friends anymore (they all seemed to gravitate around Blaise now), Draco had no choice but to think of her. Of them. Together. Long thoughts impossible. Disgust too great. It did, however, make Draco see Ron as more than a sniveling underling. He was a rival equal to the task.

Draco had all sorts of strategies planned out on how to kill him. He thought about it all night. For example, Ron might accidentally fall onto a pile of swords lying accidentally in the middle of a hallway and get accidentally impaled through the heart. Maybe Ron would swallow some poison soup or smother himself with his own pillow.

Yes… accidentally.

It'd have to be if Hermione was ever going to move on. He expected her to just shrug off her best friend's death and it soon became evident that he was insane and was growing more insane the longer he was away from her.

He heard the other students talking about them last night. From others' conversations, Draco managed to get a play by play of what happened. Apparently, they had drawn together for warmth and they figured kissing would do that. He was relieved that they had only kissed. Had it been him, he would not have been so gentlemanly on a first date. Still, the passion with which they kissed – given six years of repressed sexual tension – was enough to make Ron number one on Draco's personal hit list. The bastards who had tortured him were already crossed off so Ron got number one by default.

Also, it seemed that Ron had refused to answer questions on the topic of last night which made him even more evil in Draco's eyes. If he had gloated, said something inappropriate, maybe Draco would have cause to hate him and more than ample cause to steal Hermione away. But no. Ron just didn't seem to know what to do with what happened last night. The poor boy must have been dreaming about it for so long that he didn't know if it had actually happened.

Draco chuckled, making the girl sitting next to him in herbology give him a weird look. He sneered and she got the hint to back off. Draco was starting to worry that he was losing his sex appeal.

_Pfft._ _As if that could happen_, he thought to himself.

Another note from Harry found its way into Draco's books. It said: "Second floor then Quidditch? Same time? I'll be there anyway tonight studying. See ya! –Potter."

Draco smirked against his better judgment and destroyed the evidence yet again.

-----

Ron was waiting to walk her to class the next day. Ginny had advised him that it was the right way to go if he desperately had to see her again. It wasn't necessarily true. He could live without seeing her. He couldn't live without kissing her. Kissing her was like kissing a lightning bolt. He had never felt so alive, his body so awake and energized and, generally… good.

He walked her to her second class too and they pleasantly chatted about Harry and Neville's inability to hold a pet longer than two minutes without losing it. They thought up ways to help him like double sided tape to his hands or sticky glue. If the poor things couldn't escape his grasp, they couldn't be lost. Hermione knew it was all in jest or else she would have slapped him behind the head as a gesture of disgust. Those poor creatures did _not_ deserve to be stuck to Neville for any amount of time.

Then, she got to class and as always, sat at the very front so she wouldn't be able to look back at Draco. She tried to get there early too so their eyes never had to meet. It made her miss him more.

A silky blond shadow sat down beside her but she didn't turn until he whispered, "Good morning."

She gasped but didn't look at him. He was just a shadow in the corner of her eye, nothing more and nothing less. She didn't want to breathe in too deeply should the desire arise. Her hands gripped down on the sides of the table so strongly that wood cracked in places.

"Breathe," Draco instructed quietly.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she growled at the blackboard.

She could feel him smile. She didn't even have to look at him to know. "Maybe I'm a sadist. Maybe I want revenge. Maybe I just wanted to see you…"

"Get away from me," she squealed.

Nobody had really arrived yet. He looked around to make sure no one was looking and slipped his hand atop hers, giving it a small squeeze. He leaned into her ear and whispered seductively, "Have dinner with me tonight after patrol."

She felt like she was breathing in ice. It was painful but it wasn't completely bad. Her knees buckled together as a tingling sensation rose from her calves all the way up her thighs, deep within her. She whimpered and slid down a little in her seat. It felt like… fingers?

She whispered his name and he took it as a cue to leave. The feeling only lasted a few more minutes but she walked funny all day.

-----

"YOU DID WHAT?" Harry shouted, pushing Draco back onto the ground. "I thought you were going to ask her out, not… you know!"

Draco laughed and picked himself up, brushing the grass off his pants. "I didn't do anything, Potter. Why? Did she say something?"

"It's scary how your eyes light up like that. No, but Ginny said she looked harried all day, jumping every time somebody touched her."

The smirk on Draco's fave grew wider, almost a smile. "I just held her hand. That's all. It's just different for werewolves in heat."

Harry nodded in understanding and mounted his broom. "You didn't hurt her?"

He laughed. "No, I don't think that was pain on her face."

Harry's eyes shot open. "Oh God, Malfoy, spare me the details."

"No! Details are what I need. We're meeting in an hour and I haven't a clue what she eats!"

Harry waited for Draco to mount beside him to make up his mind. "Look, man. You beat me at this and I'll tell you whatever you want."

Draco put out his hand and they shook on it.

-----

Ron and Hermione teamed up again for patrol but it was not on purpose. Ron was the last to arrive and she was the only one not assigned. She dreaded it because she knew what would be happening later tonight. She just didn't know who she'd be betraying. Maybe it was herself.

"You okay, 'Mione?" Ron asked as they walked through the fourth floor, taking points at will. She'd been mostly silent, distant. She let two kids who were smoking pot under the stairs just go free but heavily penalized a couple making out by the bathroom entrance. "You're acting kind of strange. Is this about last night?"

She nearly slipped on the tile floor. "No no," she began but stopped herself. She was lying. "Listen, that was kind of an accident, ok?"

He stopped walking and stared at the floor. "So, it didn't mean anything?"

She gulped. "It was nice, Ron. It was. You know it's just…"

"Because we've been friends for so long?"

She chuckled nervously. "Yea, there's that."

"But it didn't feel wrong, did it?"

She smiled and brought a hand to his face. He wasn't stubbly like Draco but it didn't hurt to touch him. It didn't feel wrong but it didn't feel right. He smirked devilishly and dragged her into a classroom. He pressed her up against a wall and waited for her permission to continue. She closed her eyes and held her breath. She tried to imagine Draco's scent, Draco's hands.

She took Ron's right hand and placed it on her hip, then ran her free hand through his hair and brought him closer so his breath would feel warm on her neck. And he kissed her skin and brought her little body against his till she was swallowed up by his frame, running his fumbling hands up the back of her sweater.

She gulped and her breathing sped again. She finally understood why they called it being in heat. Her head was woozy as though she'd walked a hundred miles through the Sahara. She didn't know where she was, who she was, or who was touching her. She just wanted to feel the intensity of it, the warmth.

A warning system flashed in her head as Ron's lips got closer to the neckline on her sweater. She gasped and he stopped. He pushed off her to let her catch her breath, laughing with excitement. "That was… wow."

She laughed but there was no joy on her face. Her eyes, however, were starting to shed the hidden gold. He stopped smiling and stared at her in fear.

"Who are you?" he asked, stepping back.

Hermione brought her hands to her face and tried to smooth out her hair. She looked around the dark room but they were alone. "What? It's me. Hermione."

"Your eyes," he whispered.

Suddenly, it all became clear and she conjured a mirror to check. It wasn't anywhere near as strong a gold as with Draco and she hadn't had an orgasmic episode at Ron's touch.

"Don't worry, Ron. It's me." She sounded bored. This had been a futile experiment. "And I'm sorry if I might have led you on."

"You didn't feel that?"

She looked down at her feet in shame as she walked past him towards the door. "I'm sorry, Ron."

Even though she ran to make it back to her room on time, her little encounter with Ron had taken far too long. She stood before Liam. He waited for her to say the password anxiously but she didn't move. She couldn't even look Liam in the eyes. He tried to reach out to stroke her hair but could not escape his portrait.

"Don't be sad, Hermione," he said, kneeling on his frame so he'd be closer. "It'll be okay soon."

She tried to smile but it didn't come out right. It didn't reach her eyes. "I know, Liam. If he asks, tell him I'm sorry."

She turned around and headed towards Gryffindor Tower where she knew a bed would always be waiting for her, just in case.

-----

Draco had set up a small table for two in the middle of his room. He knew he shouldn't set it up in hers or else she'd be stuck with his scent for days, driving her wild. He got all the foods Harry had told him to get, down to the type of pudding. He even got some Muggle drink called Coca Cola. It was strangely addictive, he admitted.

But she never came. He waited till around midnight and then he just fell asleep at the table. It wasn't so much that she had not come. It was that she had spent the night with Ron. He didn't understand. He could give her everything she wanted and more. He knew for a fact that he was more sexually able than dear, virginal Ron.

The maids! How many maids could vouch for his virility?!

Who cares what he thought Ron lacked? He had Hermione and that was all that mattered.

Come morning, he checked to see if she was in her room. Nothing. It was obvious. She had spent the night with him. "Ugh," Malfoy said to himself. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

He headed down to breakfast at unusually slow pace now that he had no one to walk with him, not even his minions. He also had no one to go meet at the table. Some lowly Slytherins still talked to him but there was no point. They were irksome, preoccupied with their lowly, irksome lives. Draco Malfoy deserved the best. He deserved Hermione.

She was already sitting in her usual spot, wearing the same clothes as last night and talking animatedly with Ginny. Probably wedding plans. Hermione seemed like that kind of girl, the type to plan her wedding and have all her kids' names lined up before she could fit into a bra. He'd thought about it once but he didn't remember what it was he'd decided on.

Ron wasn't there though. He was across the way talking to Lavender Brown, famous for putting out. The bastard! He sleeps with Hermione once and then he's on to the next one? Well, he couldn't blame him. Draco had been like that once. Maybe he could be that way again? He wasn't tied to Hermione, was he? Sure they had this sort of bond but there had to be someone better than her.

He had to try to move on. He would not be stepped on by anyone anymore, not even her, and he would not be her sloppy seconds.

But then why did he feel so sad? This was sadness, right? This pain in his chest was telling him he'd wanted something and could never have it. Was that why he wanted her in the first place?

-----

She didn't look at the Slytherin table the whole day. She didn't look at _him_ the whole week. She heard him come and go of his room, saw him walk by the lake from the safety of the third floor window. But they did not speak, not even through bathroom doors. They alternated meetings with the Prefects and patrolled opposite sides of the castle.

She wondered if anyone noticed that something wonderful had ended. Did anyone see the distance between them or did they see order restored to nature? After all, their two houses were sworn enemies. No, nobody noticed, and that was for the best.

Her birthday was coming in a day. The full moon would rise in a week. And she'd never felt lonelier.

Five minutes to midnight on the eighteenth, Hermione heard a knock in her sleep. She figured it was coming from the bathroom door and threw her sheets off. She pressed her ear to the door and waited for it to sound again but it didn't.

"Hello?" she whispered in case it was just her imagination.

The knock came again, this time from her portrait hole. "Hermione!" someone hissed. "We forgot the password! It's Harry, Ron, and Ginny!"

She scoffed at herself. As if he'd come to her door. "Be right there," she called back at them, going to find her favorite yellow robe. She pulled open the portrait hole and was instantly bombarded with hugs.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" they all shouted, shoving presents into her arms.

She stepped aside and let them in. Her bed made itself and tables were conjured, one for presents and one large one for them to sit. "Why so many?" she asked, inspecting the orange wrapping paper on five.

"Mum and Dad sent a few," Ginny answered, pouring herself some pumpkin juice. "Some are mine and Ron's, Harry got you two, Neville sent one over in the strange chocolate-colored box, Seamus and Dean sent you one as thanks for your help on the OWLs and whatnot."

She waved her hand as if saying it was nothing at all, making Hermione smile uncontrollably. Ron, who had never seen her bed at Hogwarts, started walking around taking in the sights. "You good there, Ron?" she asked, feeling slightly self-conscious at having her belongings poked and prodded.

He nodded, staring wide-eyes at her neat line of shoes. "By God, you can eat off these floors, nothing like the Burrow. And you have your own bathroom too!"

He headed for the door just as she flew before it, impeding his path. "Private bathroom, Ron," she growled. "Keyword being 'private.'"

He threw his hands up in surrender and headed back to his seat. She relaxed and they began talking about all sorts of things, the usual things they talked about on her birthday. She and Ginny always seemed to get sad and brought up memories of their first years at Hogwarts.

Somehow, the conversation led to Hermione's childhood birthday parties with Muggles. "No flying parades? Really?" Ron asked. She laughed and shook her head.

"No," she answered softly, staring at her soda glass. "My parents would take me to the zoo the weekend of and we'd walk around with our 35mm cameras. I loved the peacocks. I must have a hundred pictures of birds in a box somewhere back home."

Everyone had stopped their games and turned to her. "Why so sad, 'Mione?" Harry asked sweetly, rubbing her back.

The others quickly accepted her shrug but Ginny didn't. She watched as Hermione glanced to the bathroom door, just for an instant.

-----

Draco listened in on the laughter, feeling like shit that he hadn't bothered to ask her her birthday. Nobody really cared about birthdays in Slytherin. His own was in June so he was out of school by then and his parents had never taken him to the zoo. They showered him with gifts and that was supposed to be enough.

Come dawn, the others left and Hermione headed down to breakfast. Draco jumped out of bed and rifled through his trunk for pictures of home. He knew they weren't the same as her Muggle pictures but he slipped some of the white peacocks that roamed his vast gardens back home under her door.

He regretted it instantly. A week of silence was too much for a relationship so fragile and he was quite sure he had lost her to Weasley.

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_Uhm… yea. He doesn't. Next chapter is really steamy and someone ends up in the hospital. They will get their dinner eventually though, I promise. _

_Many thanks to GothicLust, my dear friend Joce, who helped me out on some plot points in the upcoming chapters. It's going to get insane. Muahahaha!_

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**Don't forget to review! Why? Because reviews are better than tingly sensations up your skirt. **


	8. Illicit Affairs

**CHAPTER EIGHT:** _Illicit Affairs_

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_Big shout-out to xMagicGurlx for being my 100th reviewer! Woot! 100 in ten days! Also, much love to my Australian and Canadian fans for being the firsts to read every time. Gotta love these new stat features. Lol. Enjoy!_

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"Hermione, what's the password to Liam?" Ginny asked nonchalantly, passing Harry a plate of peas and carrots over lunch the next day.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and took a big bite of her pasta before answering, "Kaleidoscope eyes. Why?"

Ron, who sat beside Ginny, shook his head. "No sleepovers, please. Harry's imagination might make his head explode."

Neville squirted chocolate milk out his nose. "Exhibit A," joked Ginny. "No, I left my scarf on your bed last night." This time, Dean stared like a deer in headlights at the two of them. The girls both shot him a look so he knew it wasn't anything like that. Harry was going red beside Ginny but didn't say anything. He was enjoying the conversation a little too much and wished for his father's invisibility cloak, despite being there last night himself and knowing it was all a joke.

Hermione cleared her throat, unable to hide the embarrassment of having to reveal her plans yet again. "No, I'm not going back to bed tonight. I have more research to do in the library so I'll need the cloak again tonight, Harry."

He nodded. Ginny rolled her eyes. "For the sixth night in a row?"

"Are you still surprised, Gin?" Ron joked through a mouthful of toast. The boy was incapable of chewing for longer than three seconds without having _something_ to say. "Don't worry. I'll be patrolling that floor tonight so I'll pick it up for you."

Hermione hissed something about knowing if something was missing from her panty drawer but no one but Harry caught it.

"You okay there, Harry?" asked Ginny. "You look like you're having an aneurysm."

He shook his head but his cheeks were on fire the whole dinner.

-----

Draco returned to his room early, hoping not to see Hermione there. She'd spent the last week with Weasley, he thought, so maybe she wouldn't have to watch him retreat the peacock pictures. The door was open so he snuck right in and quickly scooped up the photos from the floor. The portrait hole began to open and he ran back into the bathroom, shutting the door silently behind him.

"What are we doing here, Won-Won?" asked the usual shrill voice of Lavender Brown.

_What the hell is _she_ doing in Hermione's room?_ Draco wondered. He pulled out his wand, ready to strike should she be there unauthorized.

"I'm just picking up something for my sister. The room's a friend's," Weasley explained. Draco heard him shuffle through Hermione's sheets for the scarf. He heard something rasping, lips interlocking and bed springs squeaking. A growl wanted to escape his throat but he bit the inside of his cheeks to keep himself steady.

"A friend with her own room? Oh Won-Won, you're so connected."

Draco wanted to vomit. This was the creature he left Hermione for?

"Yup. Head Girl, baby," he said in-between kisses.

Draco couldn't help himself as the pain started in his chest. His arms became numb and his wand dropped to the floor with an unbearably loud bang. The anger spread, intensified. His spine felt like it'd been stretched across a water wheel and his feet burst out of his shoes.

"No!" he growled through his wolf teeth and slammed his shoulder against the bathroom door. Lavender screamed on the other side and jumped off Ron. He screamed too and Draco broke right through the door. He managed to look at her as she back off towards the portrait hole. "RUN!"

Ron scampered to the door, not bothering to lower his shirt back down. A long string of profanities left his lips as he reached for the half-open hole. But it was too late.

Draco's claws tore at Weasley's back, slashing him as he ran. Had Ron been standing, he would have been split in two. Students, following McGonagall and Snape, ran into the hall to see what the screams were about. They got one look at the werewolf trying to eat Weasley and ran back wherever they came from.

"STOP!" shouted McGonagall, waving her wand. Draco was suddenly lifted up in the air, frozen in mid attack before he could slash again. Blood was dripping down his arms onto the floor below.

Dumbledore, Snape, and Pomfrey were called and Ron was rushed to the hospital wing. Harry and Ginny, looking frantic, rushed to the hallway where a six-foot monster floated above their heads. They gaped, mouths wide open, and turned to each other.

"Hermione," they both whispered at the same time.

"I'll get her," Ginny added, running down the hallway to the library.

-----

"You bastard!" shouted Harry, pointing his wand straight at Draco's nose. He'd been moved back home to his room and the broken bathroom door had been resealed should he escape. He just stared at his shoes though, having changed back and dressed shortly after being dropped to the ground. Though, being Draco, it was hard to ignore the globs of blood staining the shoes' lustrous black shine. It was killing him not to be able to clean it off, seeing as Ginny had tied him down to the chair in his room using Hermione blue-black chains.

"What else is new, Potter?" he said in a low, dead voice. The adrenaline had died. Remorse had yet to sink in but it soon would. Harry lowered his wand slightly in defeat. There would be no scaring Draco. He had the face of someone who had nothing to lose anymore. After all, he'd surely lost Hermione and she was his last tie to the world.

"I knew it! I knew you hadn't changed. I wanted so much to believe it because I saw how you looked at Hermione but you're still him. You're still just like your father."

At that, Draco started to chuckle and Harry, still terrified of the Dark Lord's similar icy laugh, stepped back. Ginny returned then through the portrait hole and seeing Harry's shaking arm, took hold of his hand. His posture instantly straightened. Draco saw this and chuckled again.

"What would you have done, Potter, if you thought _she'd_ been hurt?" he asked softly in the same dead voice.

Ginny blushed but gripped Harry's arm tighter. His wand hand lowered even more until there was no longer a point and he pocketed it. "If he dies," Ginny warned. "YOU die."

This threat, Draco believed. The only thing worse than a woman scorned was a sibling out for revenge. McGonagall showed her face at the door and gestured for Harry and Ginny to follow her.

"Is he awake?" Draco asked timidly. McGonagall huffed and whipped out her wand yet again. Draco flinched before it and was soon gagged with gauze. He was taken aback but could do nothing but sigh and relax, slipping down his chair. He wanted to tell them he wasn't going anywhere. They could do as they pleased and no one would care but McGonagall had made it clear that she was not a proper authority and she did not care what his excuse was.

He agreed and settled on staring at the tiled roof as he did every sleepless night, thinking of her and wondering how long before they took him away to Azkaban. He wondered if they'd put him in the same cell as his father and prayed they didn't.

-----

Ron awoke to Hermione's worried face. She hadn't cried though, he could see, and he was barely in any pain. "What happened?" he asked. "Where am I?"

She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. "You were attacked by a werewolf."

He looked around and realized he was resting on his side. The bandages around his torso were bearably tight but uncomfortable. "What the—Was Lavender hurt?"

"Remember her, do you? Want to explain what you were both doing in my room?"

His cheeks matched his hair. "I came to pick up Ginny's scarf like I said. She was patrolling with me. We were just kissing, I promise. Then the bathroom door burst open and next I know, I woke up here."

She nodded. "Look, Ron, I'm sorry you got attacked but you need to know that this was all a mistake. I don't want you to worry. You won't be attacked again. Nobody will."

He smiled and reached for her hand. It was so much easier to be around her now that they had gotten over the sexual tension. She might as well have been his sister. "Did they kill it? Bloody monsters loose at Hogwarts! Was it Hagrid?"

She tensed in her chair and retreated her hand. "Ron, there's something you need to know about me."

"What is it, 'Mione?"

"This summer, when Malfoy was brought to the Burrow, I noticed a very particular bite on his shoulder blade. It was a werewolf bite."

He interrupted, sitting up and wailing with pain. "WHAT! There was a werewolf sleeping two doors down from me?"

She sighed and calmly continued, "There's a werewolf sitting in this very room right now, in this very chair, Ron."

He gulped and scooted away from her. "HE BIT YOU?" he shouted, furious. "I'm going to kill the son of a bitch!"

She tried not to laugh. "Yea, Ron. He's the one who attacked you but don't worry. You weren't bitten. It was just a deep scratch. Scratches cannot cause lycanthropy. That's a myth."

He nodded, stroking her hand. "Hermione, are you going to be alright?"

She smiled at his little, worried voice. It was the voice of a little brother, looking up at his big sister with pain for her safety. "Yes, dear. I'm fine. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. It wasn't his fault that I was bitten. Harry and Ginny were told not to tell you because, well, it's Malfoy. You're the only ones who know about either of us and I'd like to keep it that way, okay?"

"Yea," he said in the same small voice.

She got up and bent down to kiss his forehead. "I love you, old boy," she whispered and left. Ron wasn't sure who this creature walking confidently out of the hospital wing was but she was no longer a girl. She was a woman, with a whole new load on her shoulders. Something told him – perhaps from years of knowing her – that she would handle this with the same grace she handled everything else.

-----

Some time later, long enough for Draco's blood pressure to drop well below normal, the door to the room opened again and a big bushy mane of brown hair entered.

"Mermiome," he mumbled through the gauze, sitting up. The chains made a terrible clanking sound and, startled, she paused halfway between him and the door.

He tried to read her eyes, her face, but all he saw was pity and that couldn't possibly be right. He hadn't seen that face on her since she cared for him at the Burrow. Sure Ron deserved this face, not him. He was not injured, not physically anyway.

She sighed and knelt down before him, letting her hands fall gently on his knees. Her eyes were a warm honey color, not quite out of control but still distantly lustful. Was mating season, or whatever mating instinct she had, passing?

She went to remove the gag but paused. "You know what?" she said. "I'll leave it on. There's something you need to hear. I do not belong to you, Draco Malfoy. I am not a prize to be fought over and Ron is not a chew toy. I understand why you attacked him. I know you probably thought it was me in there with Lavender but—"

He shook his head animatedly. This wasn't right. This wasn't right at all but he was still elated to hear her voice again, to get to look straight into her eyes without fear. She reached up and pulled off the gag. He let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

"Are you okay?" he asked, tugging at the chains again to be able to touch her face. She was too far away so he gave up and rested his hands back down by his sides.

She laughed at his words. "Of course. Are you?"

"Bad aftertaste but I'm fine…" he joked sadly. "Hermione, I'm so sorry I hurt your boyfriend. I don't know how it happened or how I turned but I did and I didn't mean for it to happen. I just couldn't believe he was making out with Lavender on your _bed_! He was cheating on you, 'Mione!"

She stared for some time then got up off her knees. She rubbed at her eyes. She was so tired; it was so late. "Ron isn't my boyfriend, Draco. He's Lavender's. Sure, it was rude to make out on my bed but he has no loyalties to me, not in that way. You attacked an innocent man."

Draco gulped. "But—But you snuck away night after night! Everyone heard about the Astronomy Tower!"

She blushed but rolled her eyes. "You stupid son of a—" Despite his situation, he smirked. He loved to hear her curse. It had the same comedic effect as watching a kitten rob a bank and feel horribly ashamed for succeeding. "Draco, I was in the library! Doing RESEARCH! On us, on what we are!"

Now he really was confused. "What we are?"

"Something's wrong with us, Draco. We're not like other werewolves. How is it you bit me before the full moon and still infected me? How is it you turned just now? Why am I constantly in heat?" Her voice went up a pitch at the last part, making her sound squeaky and out of breath. "I've been working on a potion to kill our libido."

"Then, what are we?"

"An experiment. Voldemort's experiment. I think that's why you escape, Draco, and I'm terrified he'll come for you when the final battle begins."

He gulped, remembering his mother and the brutes who carried her away.

"I'm scared," she repeated breathlessly, trying to hold back tears. "I'm so scared."

He extended his chained hand up for her to come closer. She pulled out her wand and liberated on arm so he could hug her. She knelt back down by the chair and slipped her own arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. He wished he could hug her tighter, longer, but the door to the room was pushed open and Dumbledore and Snape entered.

Snape cleared his throat, trying to get her attention, but Hermione lingered just a second longer. When she stood, she did so proudly in his defense, ready to stand as a shield between them and Draco.

"Headmaster, I'd like to speak on Draco's behalf. He was not in control of his actions and should not be punished. I don't think he's a danger to anyone and am willing to put his health under my care until we find a way to control what's causing our change."

Dumbledore had already raised his hand to object when his eyes shot open in fear. "_Our_ change?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry sir. I know I should have informed you sooner but I was more than capable of making the potion to retain the human mind during the change and he—"

"Granger, stop," Snape growled. "We agree that he was not in control and I have vouched for his intent as well."

They all turned to Dumbledore for an explanation, a continuation, but Dumbledore continued to stare in amazement the likes of which even Harry probably had never seen. "Mr. Granger, where exactly were you bitten?"

She blushed and unbuttoned halfway down her shirt before he raised his hand, telling her to stop.

"I see," he said grimly, looking at Draco. "There's nothing we can do about it now, can we?"

Hermione nodded cautiously, waiting for the punchline. "Is that what you were here to say? That he's not in trouble?"

Snape laughed. "Oh he's in trouble."

"But he will not be expelled," Dumbledore clarified. "Ms. Granger, may we have a moment with Mr. Malfoy?"

She went to leave but Draco clutched her hand. "Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of her. She's my last real ally, Professor, and I'd just tell her eventually anyway."

She went white as a sheet. "Very well," agreed Dumbledore, reaching into his robes for another piece of bloodied cloth. Draco instantly stood, squeezing Hermione's hand even tighter. "Another note has arrived on a Malfoy owl."

He handed it to Hermione and she brought it to Draco. "What is it?" she asked.

"A note from my mother," he whispered, unrolling the piece of dress. "We think she's alive and in You-Know-Who's custody."

She looked to his dresser where she knew he kept the other piece. He nodded towards it and suggested she check the first drawer on the right. Inside was a black velvet box with his initials written on it in real silver. She opened it and laid out the notes on the bed beside him. "They're the same handwriting."

All three others nodded. "I'm positive it's my mother's."

"Who's Seneca?" she asked.

Draco shrugged, making the chains rattle slightly. "I don't know what they mean."

"Ms. Granger, would you read the second one to us?" Snape asked with surprising kindness. They all knew Snape had a special friendship with Narcissa but Hermione had never seen him this concerned about anyone.

_I killed Pettigrew. They want to punish me. I'm being taken to the Manor. Now is the time. Find me._

Draco sat back down in his chair, looked up at Hermione, and said with all the strength in his arsenal, "I have to go to her."

"It could be a trap," Hermione answered, running her hands through his hair to soothe him. A cool breeze entered through the half-open window and Draco felt like there was no one else in the world. He hated that he had to leave all this.

"I can't risk it. I have to go anyway."

She nodded and bent down to kiss the top of his head similar to how she did Ron. "Then I'm going with you," she whispered.

-----

_Told you the chapter was going to be intense. Big questions, no? Lots of mysteries. Next chapter, the journey to Malfoy Manor begins!_

**And please, review… because reviews are better than getting Draco all jealous, hot, and bothered. Lol. **


	9. Strategies

**CHAPTER NINE:** _Strategies_

-----

_As I mentioned in a special note previously, the official playlist to LLDM is linked to on my profile. A list of the artists is right below the link. I'm also open to suggestions of other songs to add. I'm compiling a special fan playlist, which should be up before my birthday. Just review with the name of your song suggestion. _

_Can you believe I'll be turning 19 in a few weeks? I feel so old!_

-----

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" shouted Snape.

Dumbledore agreed but he said nothing. "Severus, please alert the Order," he said calmly. Snape grudgingly did as asked, muttering to himself on the way out the portrait hole. Hermione knew this look. It was the same expression he'd had in third year when he quietly suggested she use her Time Turner to save Sirius and Buckbeak… er, Witherwings. "I suspect Mr. Potter will have something to say on the manner."

She gave him a knowing nod and smiled wildly. Dumbledore stepped out and she quickly undid the final chain. "Are you crazy?" Draco protested. "We're going to kill each other."

She smirked. "Yea… so that's what the kids are calling it these days. Don't worry. Just take this," she joked and handed him the potion from the inner pocket of her robes. "It'll stop the lust."

He looked at the vial of purple, glowing formula and pondered whether he should take it. "I don't think I want this," he spoke as she headed for the bathroom to cross into her own room.

He didn't think to stop her. The condition of her bathroom door didn't even cross his mind. He looked to the drawers, trying to think of what he'd need, when he heard a gasp coming from the bathroom. He closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and cursed.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry about the door," he said, heading to the bathroom. "I'll fix it, I promise."

But she wasn't looking at the door. "What is this?" she whispered, running her fingers over the pictures of white peacocks that ran wild through his gardens.

"Oh," he paused, wondering whether he should hide his little gesture. There really was no point now. She wasn't stupid but he could at least bend the truth a little to sound less desperate and pathetic. "I was going to put those in your room when I saw Weasley."

He didn't know if that was sadness, shock, or remorse in her eyes but she put the pictures down on the edge of the white bathroom sink. She turned to him and slid her arms around his waist again. His heart went wild. This was better than any maid, than any caress. He felt like an idiot, getting so excited at a simple hug. He didn't think this was the curse. So far, he had been unaffected by the lust.

"Hermione…" he began but she just tightened her grip on his waist. She was so much smaller than him that he could rest his chin atop her head effortlessly. His own arms wrapped around her as he carefully took a whiff of her hair. She smelled… she smelled like Weasley.

Still, he didn't retreat.

"Thank you," she said into his chest. His shirt was all wrinkly from having to dress quickly, his shoes were stained with blood, and his hair was an adorable mess. And she wouldn't have it any other way. "I love them."

When she finally released him, she took the pictures carefully back in her hands as if they were made of crystal and placed them in the inner edges of her mirror. Draco watched from the bathroom, leaning against the broken edges of the bathroom door with his arms and ankles crossed, a huge smile on his lips.

"Listen…" he began and she snapped around. She didn't think he'd be watching her all this time. "I don't want you to come."

She gulped and stepped towards him. He put a hand out between them, telling her to stop. If she got any closer, he knew he'd change his mind. "Why not?"

"I can't have you get hurt, okay? If I go alone, maybe—"

She shot him a look of disbelief. "Draco, if you really wanted me to stay, you'd have tied me up a long time ago and escaped. You need me," she said sweetly. The words would stick to his subconscious like glue. "You need me, and you know I can help. Do you have any idea how many escapades I'm gone on with Ron and Harry? Who do you think was at the Ministry when your father was arrested? You can say a lot of things and they're cute and everything but they don't mean squat to me. I'm going."

He'd stopped listening to her halfway through her little speech. He just focused on her lips, his own mouth slightly ajar, brought down by the weight of lust. He gulped and straightened. "I think I'm going to need that potion after all," he said to himself and turned back absentmindedly to his room.

She laughed, watching him go. It felt amazing to be able to look upon him again without fear or lust. She had to thank Snape's books for the potion. She had to thank him for a lot of things. She knew Harry wouldn't like to hear it but there was a lot Harry wouldn't like about her current lifestyle.

Then she realized she'd have to tell him and that he would most probably say no.

She took the cloak out of her bag and turned her attention back to Draco. She found him folding a wide range of outfits through the air into a dark green suitcase. "What are you doing?" she said with a laugh, crossing her arms as he had done.

"Practicing ballet. What does it look like? I'm packing! The Manor's a long way away."

She laughed again, this time harder. "What, are you serious? My dear boy, have you never planned an escape from Hogwarts before?"

He stared at her, wide-eyed, a pair of four-leaf clover underpants flying over his head into the wall. "So… we're not just flying off?"

She shook her head and took his hand, pulling him out into the hallway. Liam caught sight of them as they left and said, "Yes! You're talking again! Hurrah!"

They smiled at each other as Liam started dancing in his little frame, slipping on the carpet. They slipped on Harry's invisibility cloak and kept on walking, careful around corners to avoid running into Filch and his cat. "No," she hissed on the way to the hospital wing. "We're not just flying off. Harry and Ginny will be with Ron in the infirmary. I say we talk it over with them and come up with a plan. I already have one in mind."

He nodded and followed, thinking how just an hour ago, he was contemplating how he was going to redecorate his jail cell. If he knew attacking Weasley was going to bring her back to him, he would have shot him days ago!

As promised, Harry and Ginny were keeping Ron company. She had taken the bed beside her brother and Harry the seat between them. Ron was muttering something about spiders, Ginny was stroking Harry's messy locks in her sleep, and Harry's forehead ceased to crease, even when unconscious. They all looked exhausted in their pajamas, like they'd just crashed wherever they sat.

"Why do they look so tired?" Draco inquired into her ear.

She ignored the shivers it caused and answered, "You should talk. It comes with being Harry's friend and constantly getting attacked. When people you love keep dying next to you, you want to stay awake as long as possible. Worrying, enjoying each other… it's all the same."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry."

She smirked. "Don't be. He's worth it."

Suddenly, she slammed her hand on the wooden table by Ron's feet and the three snapped away. Ron shouted a few vulgar curses, which made Draco snicker, and looked around. "Hermione, is that you?" asked Harry, rubbing his eyes. He reached out into empty space as if trying to feel around for her in the darkness.

She pulled off the cloak and Ginny gasped at the sight of Draco standing right beside her. She tried to straighten her hair but it was pointless. Draco wasn't looking at her. He was focused on Hermione a hundred percent, on the way her face hardened ever so slightly when she concentrated. She could have been a teacher, he thought.

"Hey guys. It's us," she whispered. Draco waved lamely. Harry, who stared at him like he was the reincarnation of Judas, waved back.

"What the hell's he doing here?" growled Ron. Ginny shushed him.

Draco took in a deep breath and answered, "I need your help."

Harry turned up to Ginny and said, "Gin, I want you to go outside and check if it's raining fire 'cause I think I died in my sleep and went to Hell."

Ron chuckled and lied back down, too tired to be outraged for long. "Come on, Harry," Hermione pleaded, handing him back her cloak. "This is serious. Would I ever come to you for help if I didn't really need it?"

He shrugged but his face said she was right. "You know we've always got your back, Hermione," Ginny squealed within a yawn. "It's just Malfoy we'd like to throw off a cliff."

She rolled her eyes. "Guys, we were all doing so well. Harry, you even said he wasn't that bad of a flyer. This was all an accident and he's sorry. Aren't you, Draco?"

"Do I have to say it?" he groaned, leaning in to whisper in her ear again. This time, nobody missed the shiver.

"Yes!" she hissed.

"Fine, fine. Weasley, I'm deeply sorry for having attacked you while you were fornicating on Hermione's bed."

Ron went a little red but shrugged it off much like Harry had done. He gave some sort of retarded nod which Draco took as an apology accepted.

"What do you need?" Harry asked, arms crossed. He wanted whatever this was done and over with as soon as possible.

Hermione took out the letters from Draco's mother and explained the situation, that she had been presumed dead but had been kept hostage this whole time. "If they're moving her to Malfoy Manor, that means we have an opportunity to pull her out. Who knows the Manor better than Draco?"

Harry pushed the notes back to her on the bed and definitely arrived at, "It's a trap."

Hermione shot him a look. "No shit, Sherlock," Draco growled. "But what if it's not? This is her handwriting. They were delivered by a Malfoy owl. They only answer to my parents and myself and my father's in no condition whatsoever to be sending mail."

"Handwriting can be forged."

"And the owl?"

Harry huffed. "I refuse to walk blindly into a trap. Look what happened last time. Sirius died, Hermione! I will not put the DA under danger again!" he shouted. Ginny gripped his shoulder but he pulled away. Not even she could calm him now.

They all waited a moment but Draco was honestly confused. "Sirius Black?" he asked. "Didn't he betray your parents and murder—"

Harry jumped out of his chair and punched Draco in the very same spot as last time. "Damn it, Potter! I nearly tore your friend to pieces. Do you really want to push my buttons?"

Harry sneered. Actually sneered. "You're no danger to me. I haven't fucked Hermione."

At that, Hermione turned away from Draco's jaw and slapped Harry with enough strength to send him back into Ginny's bed. "Harry Potter!" she scolded.

"It is kind of true, Hermione," Ginny added softly. The ice in Hermione's eyes could be skated on.

"Hey hey hey!" Draco interjected. "I didn't know you cared about the guy! Let's not bring Hermione and me into this."

Hermione stomped her foot. "There's no 'Hermione and me!' And no one's fucked anyone!"

Ginny, who seemed unable to get angry, clarified, "Draco, Sirius was Harry's godfather, his last real family and his father's best friend since they were here at Hogwarts. He had been falsely imprisoned thanks to Pettigrew and the Dark Lord. We helped him escape in third year. It was your aunt Beatrix who killed him so you understand if Harry's a little sensitive on the subject. He's only been gone a few months."

Draco mouthed out the words Thank You and gave her a little nod of acknowledgement. Harry and Hermione continued to bicker in the background but stopped when they saw Ginny's small smile. Harry looked at her like she'd betrayed him. "Oh shush, Harry. He's not so bad. I got over all the crap Malfoy's said about _my_ family. You can get over it too. He honestly doesn't know better."

Draco didn't like being pitied. He felt like an infant, but it had starved off another war between him and Potter. Ron had apparently fallen back asleep and was snoring rather heavily. Ginny slapped him in the back of the head and Ron automatically shouted, "Sorry, Professor!"

Hermione, Ginny, and Draco stifled giggles. "How is it you geniuses have been able to fight off the Dark Lord for so long?" Draco asked no one in particular.

Harry looked up at him and answered honestly, "We're not geniuses. Hermione is. She's our secret weapon."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Great. I'm Google, a freakin' library on the go."

Nobody but Harry got the joke. "Fine. We'll help. But we need to have one hell of a plan."

Hermione looked up to Draco with a devious smirk. He didn't know if he should be afraid or turned on but since the potion had pretty much cut off his manhood, he could only feel fear.

"I have something in mind," she said, doming her fingers. Draco thought she'd make an excellent evil queen but it was better not to dwell on it. Harry was still shooting daggers at him with his eyes.

"What do we need?" asked Ginny, conjuring a quill and piece of parchment to take notes.

Hermione looked back up to Draco, "What's the best way to get into Malfoy Manor? The least obvious way."

He thought about it for a second then answered definitively, "There are dungeons under the manor. They have tunnels leading into the town jail. They were built in case of overflow from the jail and for escape purposes, of course. We use it to hide dark objects from the Ministry. It's protected by certain spells but my mother doesn't know of them so, unless my father said something, neither should the Dark Lord. I should be able to lower the walls and get us inside."

They all gaped. "Thought about it, have you?" Ron said.

Draco shrugged. "I got the first note over a week ago. I'd been planning to go retrieve some things from the tunnels then heading to Spain. That's where I was kept, in the home of a fellow Death Eater."

Ginny gulped. It was still strange to be standing so close to a real Death Eater, talking strategies. These were the monsters she'd been warned about from birth. But then, she remembered that Harry was even closer. He had been the Prince Charming in all her nightmares. As long as he was there, she would have no fear.

"What do we do if we get captured?" she asked, terrified despite Harry's presence.

"We won't," Hermione affirmed. "You're traveling with werewolves, remember? But if we do get split up for whatever reason, we pick a spot to meet at. If we get captured, nobody talks. Same as always."

"What if Voldemort knows I'm coming?" Harry asked, grim as ever. Hermione realized that he must have suffered a great shock tonight. After all, he had just lost his godfather and now he had to watch his friend get carried away covered in blood.

"We'll pray he doesn't, Harry. You're welcome to stay behind."

He shook his head, determined to steer through this. "If he captures me again, I'll know what to expect."

Draco agreed. "We both will. For all I know, he's tagged me like a wild animal."

It suddenly occurred to Harry that Draco would know. He had been tortured. He hadn't just been forced to watch Cedric die or tied up or attacked here and there. He had been _tortured_. And survived! Maybe he wasn't such a sniveling coward after all.

"We'll need maps of Malfoy Manor," Hermione told Draco. He conjured them up in an instant and spread them on the bed by Ginny's feet. "Holy crap! It's huge!"

He smiled and absentmindedly stroked her back. "I get that all the time."

Ron was about to growl at him but decided maybe it was best not to taunt the werewolf again. His wounds hurt just from thinking about it.

"How do we get out of Hogwarts though?" he asked.

Everyone looked around as if something in the room held the answer. "Hogsmeade," Hermione finally declared. "The first trip of the year is tomorrow. We get Fred and George to help us escape detection for a few hours and then we use their fireplace to floo out to London. We grab the Knight Bus from there and nobody should be the wiser."

It was Draco's turn to gape. "You people really have done this before, haven't you? Dumbledore lets you practically get away with murder."

Hermione snickered and began rolling up the blueprints. "Well," Ron said, his eyes half-closed. "If you all don't mind, I need me some bloody rest before I can be up tomorrow. Pomfrey's orders. Get the hell out."

The others laughed softly. "Alright Ron," Hermione said, messing up his hair. "We'll all go back to bed."

Ginny and Harry watched Hermione and Draco walk off awkwardly back to bed. Something was different. Now that they could stand to be in the same room, it was strange to be apart. They slipped on the cloak and walked slowly back to Liam, their nerves on fire being so close together under that hot, sweaty cloak.

Liam's portrait hole was special. They had to say the password and he'd open to either room, not both. Hermione gulped and said her password, feeling a little strange as if she and Draco were already married and were now driving home after a long dinner party with friends. Of course, reality was a lot less romantic and a lot more terrifying but it was nice to dream, she thought.

He said, "Goodnight," and headed through the broken bathroom door to his room, shutting the door behind him.

"Night," she replied to her own empty room, now too large. Had she hoped he'd stay over? She dared not dwell on it, should the purple potion falter. They changed into their nightwear and slipped into bed.

An hour passed and neither could sleep. Draco got out of bed and opened the remaining bathroom door. Hermione sat up, startled to hear him walking around. "Draco?" she whispered. "Do you need something?"

After he opened his door, he went back to bed. He moved his pillow down to the footboard and looked through the bathroom, straight into her room. She realized what he was doing and did the same, moving her pillow to the foot of the bed.

"Better," he said with a smile and – able to see and know the other was all right – they quickly drifted off to sleep. This was as close to being in each other's arms as they would get for now.

-----

_More cuteness coming soon. Lots and lots of tension on the trip and they have to make a stop somewhere. Actually, they make a few stops but it's really not their fault. _

**Reviews are better than Draco's flying underpants. **


	10. Stating the Obvious

**CHAPTER TEN:** _Stating the Obvious_

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_More cuteness, as promised, before they hit the road for Malfoy Manor. A very important revelation occurs though not so important to plot just yet. Muahaha!_

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Draco felt something heavy atop him, a warm body covered in something wet and sticky. He quickly awoke, sitting up and trying to hold his heart in his chest. But there was nothing in his bed.

"HERMIONE!" he shouted, running out of bed into her room. The door was still open but he could only see the back of her head, her hair messy and spread out over her pillow. He called her name again, shaking and moving her so she'd be facing him.

Her eyes shot open. Fear. Surprise.

"Draco!" she scolded, slapping his hands away. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

She stood up, her hands on her hips, and stared him down. Her expression softened when she saw his condition. He was shirtless and sweating profusely. His hair stuck to his forehead, almost covering his eyes. His chest rose and fell too quickly for her follow and he seemed to stumble backwards. Draco never stumbled.

"Draco?" she asked softly, extending her arms out to hold him.

"It was just a dream," he muttered. "Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream…"

She went to touch him but he shook his head. She was in her yellow nightgown, looking like an angel. "No," he hissed. "I don't want to get blood on you!"

Hermione scanned his body for wounds but they had all more or less healed. Nothing was bleeding. "Draco, there is no blood. It's all in your mind!"

He shook his head, his mind still caught between the dream and reality. "I don't want to hurt you! I don't—"

But before he could finish, Hermione had taken hold of his arms and steadied him. Her eyes were piercing into him, looking for the demon to excise it.

"LOOK AT ME, DRACO MALFOY!" she shouted, pushing him back against her vanity table. Her knee came a little too close to his crotch and the slight fear of contact made him snap out of it. "You were dreaming and now you're awake. You were in danger and now you are safe. You were alone and now you have me. And I'm not going anywhere so buck up, mate!"

They stared at each other for a bit, waiting for Draco's chest to calm down. The sweat seemed to dry up quickly. She reached up and smoothed the hair back from his eyes, looking sweet and caring. "I'm awake," he repeated, more for her knowledge than his own. "I'm okay now."

She furrowed her brow and timidly asked, "Draco, did you dream I had died?"

He gulped down and nodded. "I dreamt they'd killed you and laid you down next to me in bed."

She sniffed, trying not to cry. She hated to see him in pain, especially over her. "I'm invincible," she joked, faking a smile. "And I'm still yours."

At this, he instantly sobered. "What?"

She realized what she'd inadvertently let slip and gasped, stepping back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

A smile blossomed on his poor, tired face, and she began to wonder what if she really meant it that way. Would that be so bad? She knew he cared about her. But, how much?

"Draco…" she began, going to sit on her bed by her pillow. She patted the space beside her and he cautiously sat down. "I need to talk to you about something, before we go off risking our lives."

"Oh crap," he whispered, fumbling with his hands on his lap. His shoulders were hunched defensively and she noticed this was new. Draco used to have perfect posture. She wondered if it had to do with the torture, whether he had learned to defend himself like this on instinct. "Be blunt. Just say it."

"I don't even know what I'm going to say!" He laughed a little and she caressed his arm to let him know it wasn't serious. "Now, I know you care about me."

He looked off from his hands to the floor. "Of course."

She laughed nervously. "No, I mean… Draco, are you in love with me?"

Draco's eyes shot open and his throat closed. She felt the muscles on his arm tense; his whole body became rigid. "Uhm… I… Uh…" he stuttered. He never expected her to come right out and say it. He certainly didn't expect her to feel the same way.

"Draco?" she said after some time.

She was pretty sure she had her answer but then he surprised her and said, "Would you hate me if I did?"

"What? No!" she snapped. "Of course not!"

"But you don't love me back," he told her, his eyes knowing and self-assured. She didn't even get to answer. She didn't know how to. She stared as he walked right out of her room, stumbling near the shower. He closed the door behind him with a sad smile. All she could do was continue to stare, and she sat there, awestruck, for nearly an hour.

-----

"He loves me," Hermione whispered to her toast that morning at breakfast.

"WHAT?" shouted Ginny. A few heads at the table turned their way but Hermione was still sitting and staring, this time at her small, uneaten plate of food. Harry was still with Ron in the infirmary, helping him pick up before they came down. The scratches were still painful but luckily, they hadn't been that bad.

"He loves me," she said again in the same distant, emotionless voice, looking up for a second across the hall towards the Slytherin table. Draco seemed to be mimicking her hunched stance and stabbing the jam onto his own toast.

"Hermione… are you saying he told you he loved you?"

She shrugged. "I kind of told him I knew he loved me and he kind of, sort of, told me he knew I didn't love him back."

Ginny's eyes rivaled Moody's. She shook Hermione, trying to snap her out of her trance. "WHAT?"

Ginny's outrage seemed to irritate her so she pulled away and said, "Should I get you a thesaurus for Christmas, Gin? Find a new word to express your outrage!"

"But—But—Hermione, it's _Malfoy_!"

Hermione laughed. "You know what? I think it is."

"Mad," Ginny mumbled into her pumpkin juice. "You're all mad! The lot of you!"

Harry came down some time later, complaining how his neck hurt from staying in the infirmary all night. He and Ginny began their flirting as they did every breakfast, probably thinking it wasn't obvious. She wondered if Draco flirted with her the same way and she simply hadn't noticed. Or, maybe she had flirted with him without realizing and started this whole mess. She thought her chest was going to cave in from the pressure.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted for the fourth time, trying to get her attention.

She jumped. "What, Harry?" she said, annoyed.

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Pass the damn jam!" he shouted. "What's wrong with you?"

She looked up at the Slytherin table where Draco was glaring at them. She felt a little hurt but quickly realized Draco was glaring at Harry. She turned and saw his hand was still on her shoulder. She shook it off and looked apologetically back at Draco. Wait. What was she doing? She didn't belong to him. She could touch whoever she pleased! But why didn't she want to touch anyone else?

"I'm going to pack a bag," she told Harry, still staring over at Draco. "We'll need some books on the way and the maps. Yea… I'll go pack."

Draco watched her all the way out of the Great Hall. He waited five minutes to get up and follow. She was waiting for him with her back to the wall beside the entrance, her face set like a stone statue. He swallowed hard and nodded towards the room at the end of the hall. He went first, sure that no one was watching their interchanged looks, and closed the door behind him. It was just a closet, probably one of Filch's, but it would do for whatever she wanted to tell him.

He was bracing himself mentally for the worst of it. Maybe she'd tell him to stay away from her. No, that would be the least of his worries. What if she told him she wasn't going to help him get into the Manor anymore? Then he was sure what was left of his sanity would fold in on him.

A little later, the door opened and he visibly stiffened. "Hey," he whispered as she closed the door behind her. The closet wasn't too large but she was still able to pace before him for a few minutes before he grew dizzy. "Would you stop doing that? You look like Dumbledore pacing like that."

She didn't smile, didn't even acknowledge his comment. She leaned back against the wall opposite him and, following a heavy sigh, bluntly asked, "Why do you like me?"

He didn't mean to laugh. It just slipped. "That's what this was all about? We have the Dark Lord using us for sick experiments, Potty and Weasel are about to risk their lives for a Slytherin, and my mother's being held captive by the people who _tortured_ me. And you're worried about _why_ I like you?"

Her jaw dropped slightly. She nodded and continued ranting, "I mean, I'm not pretty. I see the girls you've been photographed with in the papers and none of them are bucktoothed and frizzy. And I'm annoyingly smart! I'm a know-it-all, Draco, and I will always be a know-it-all. I thrive on books, use them on these little heists of ours but would rather spend the rest of my life in a library than fighting for good. I don't understand why YOU of all people would—"

He had seen a few Muggle movies, enough to know that this was where the male lead would kiss the female lead to shut her up. But he couldn't do it. The potion that was killing his libido had him shackled to that wall. He didn't want their first kiss to be a pathetic attempt at exchanging spit. He wanted it to be passionate and real and mutual but it would never be in these conditions.

Instead, he settled on thoughts of them together in his bed at home. He imagined throwing her back onto the silk sheets and having his way with her the way he'd done to so many before. Then, the images softened and he realized he could never to do her the things he'd done to other girls. For one, Hermione would never consent to leather but mostly because she was special.

A smile curled at his lips. It grew wider and wider as she ranted, so much so that she had to stop just to glare. "What?" she asked defensively, her cheeks a rosy shade.

"Nothing," he answered smoothly, the smile still bright. "You're right. What was I thinking?"

He jokingly reached for the door but Hermione, rather than slap his hand away and call him a jerk as she would were it any other man, just stood there and stared at the space he had occupied seconds prior with the greatest look of loss on her face.

Realizing this, he stopped and closed the door again. "Hermione, I was kidding!"

She didn't move, barely blinked. He lowered his eyes to hers and smirked, trying to reassure her. "It scares me, Draco, how much I've grown accustomed to your face."

She let her gentle fingertips graze the edges of his cheeks, the only caress she would allow herself. He smiled and drew closer, close enough to kiss her lips with minimal movement. But instead, he simply whispered, "I love you, Hermione… frizzy hair and all. I don't know why and I don't care to know. I don't need you to return the feeling, not yet. All I want is to be in your company a second longer. Would you allow me that?"

She gulped and nodded. She went to answer him, tell him exactly what he wanted to hear, that she too wanted to linger in his presence, but she couldn't. Just as her lips parted and the words gathered at her throat, he pulled away from her and, still smiling, left. She didn't move for a few minutes, finding herself paralyzed by his absence yet again.

"I love you too," she whispered into the void long after he had left.

-----

The walk through Hogsmeade was long, too long for aching hearts and nervous allies. Hermione had instructed them all to meet at Fred and George's joke shop which, by the huge crowd before it, was growing incredibly popular.

"Hermione!" Fred – or at least she thought it was Fred – yelled from the staircase. They apparently lived above the shop. "How are you, girlie?"

He came down to hug her and led her back upstairs where Ron was already waiting, stuffing himself with a box of red chocolates. Hermione warned him countless times they props from the store but since he never listened and still managed to live through the indigestion, who was she to complain yet again.

"Where are Harry, Ginny, and Draco?" she asked, taking off her scarf and setting it on the back of her chair. Being Hogsmeade, she'd settled on jeans, a white t-shirt, and her favorite black coat. Ron shrugged.

"Ginny was the first one here," said George, coming out from the first bedroom on the right. "She and Harry wanted to do some shopping first or something. You know… shopping."

Ron lifted an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

Hermione laughed for the first time all day. "Nothing, Ron. Go back to your heart attack in a box."

He stopped chewing to shoot her a look but it barely lasted long enough to cling to her memory. "And Draco?"

"Present," he said, coming up the stairs behind her. She twirled around in a single breath. He took off his own beautiful green and silver scarf and put it down beside hers. He sat down on one of the strange Technicolor couches, looking pensively at an empty piece of wall. Hermione stepped away subconsciously, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. The only sounds were coming from Ron's lips.

"Geez," said Fred. "You can cut the tension in here with a knife and serve it to Fang."

Ron's stomach started to rumble so he set the box of chocolates aside. George sat down across from Malfoy in the living room, staring him down like he was an especially obscene piece of art in a museum. "We don't like this."

"You always speak in plural?" Draco asked, his snobby demeanor rearing its ugly head.

"Yes," they all said at once.

At that moment, Harry came up the stairs in a hurry. He stopped and leaned forward onto his knees, trying to catch his breath. "I'm here!" he announced, shoving his wand gracelessly back into his coat pocket.

"Where's Ginny?" Hermione asked, gathering her bag again. "We shouldn't waste anymore time."

Harry shook his head and huffed out, "She's not coming."

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_More fluff. Sorry! 'Cause I know you all hate that. Lol. The next will actually take place on the road. _

**Reviews are better than having Draco tell you he loves you. **


	11. Club Daemos

**CHAPTER ELEVEN:** _Club Daemos_

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_Some of you may love this chapter. Some may hate it. Don't take it too seriously – it was meant to be a funny interlude – and don't let it change your views about Draco. After all, you knew about the maids. This isn't that big of a stretch. Enjoy! And review!_

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Everyone rose to their feet, including Draco who just didn't want to feel left out of whatever was going on. He really didn't see what the big deal was. So Little Weasley stayed behind. Probably for the best, no?

"Why?" Ron asked, fearing something had happened to her.

Harry turned to face Malfoy and said, "Sorry, man. She just couldn't watch us do this again."

"But—" began George and Fred. Harry raised a hand and they all froze. Something about Harry's face told Malfoy there was more going on than any of the others could understand. He did. He understood perfectly and turned to Hermione for a split second to see her own expression. She didn't understand. Of course she wouldn't.

"No worries," said Draco, trying to drag attention away from Harry. "Are we ready, then?"

"We want to go too," said Fred and George in unison.

At this Draco laughed and shook his head, going to the fireplace. "Absolutely not."

"But we can Apparate," said Fred, a smug look on his face.

"No, you can't," answered Draco with the same smug expression. "No one can Apparate inside the Manor. The Ministry put up a barrier after they realized I might be the last Malfoy and the Manor couldn't be left to the house elves. They might explode the countryside with the potions and dark objects my father kept secret."

"But—"

Draco ignored them and turned to Harry. "Look, I don't care if they come. None of you have to come. It's up to you. If it were me, I would leave an ally back home just in case something happens but hey, that's just me."

Harry nodded and the two came to a silent agreement. They both grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace. "You're staying," announced Harry with a face no one would contradict.

"Give me five minutes then follow." Draco threw the powder down and shouted into the green flames, "Club Daemos, London."

In an instant, Draco was taken to the basement of Club Daemos, the seediest underground burlesque club closest to the Manor. He knew the owners, Sylvia Dionstocky and Carla Staf, well. A little too well.

He'd chosen this location in London not simply because of its proximity. There were other public locations he knew, some closer, but he had no allies there. He trusted Sylvia and Carla well enough. After all, he had spent thousands on their lovely ladies. His father had shown him the place when he was thirteen and he'd frequented it often ever since.

"Hello?" came a squeaky voice from above. "Drakey, is that you?"

A young woman wearing a 18th-century corset over a crumpled, lacy see-through skirt came speeding down the wooden stairs of the basement and jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and going to kiss his neck.

"Whoa whoa, Lucrecia!" he shouted. "I haven't come for a personal visit. I'm here on business."

"Are you the new buyer?" she asked excitedly. Her voice went up another octave. "Oh please please let it be!"

He scoffed. "New buyer?"

She nodded, still refusing to come down off his waist. She weighed practically nothing so he didn't really mind. This wasn't the first time he'd been jumped by a beautiful, half-naked girl covered in lace. He just wished she'd stop nibbling at his neck. Too deep in thought and too used to it, he didn't complain. He merely walked back to the wooden walls and rested against it as they talked.

"What happened to Sylvia and Carla?"

She stopped nibbling and looked him straight in the face with mournful eyes, weighed down by large, fake eyelashes and too much make-up.

"Where are they, Lu? It's important I speak with them."

"Dead," she squealed, burying her face in his chest. "Death Eaters came here last month and disapproved of them since Carla was a half-blood and Sylvia should not be affiliated with her."

"You mean they killed Carla and Sylvia stood in the way."

Lulu nodded and looked down, resting her hands on the wall on either side of Draco's head. "But no more sadness! Will you come upstairs? The girls would love to see you again!"

He smirked but felt no desire to go upstairs, not for what she wanted. "Listen, Lulu, some friends of mine are following in a few moments. When are these new buyers coming?"

"They should be here any minute."

By "new buyers," Draco knew they meant the Death Eater squad that was going to turn the club into a hiding place for Voldemort's crones. It had always been Death Eater friendly. Now, it would be exclusive.

He gulped, realizing where he'd just led his new friends.

"Lu, baby, we can't let the new buyers see my friends, okay? Is there someplace you can hide them while the buyers do their inspection?"

Just then, the fireplace exploded in green, powdery flames and out walked Hermione, Harry, and Ron in quick succession. Draco and Lulu jumped and Hermione froze, wide-eyed, at the scene. Draco just stood there, not realizing he was holding Lu up by her behind and that her ridiculously long legs were wrapped just about everywhere.

"Malfoy!" shouted Ron, the only one not too disturbed to move. "Come on, man! No time for a quickie."

Draco laughed awkwardly, realizing then what it looked like, and set his friend down. She fixed up her lacy skirt, and smiled brightly at the trio. Her eyes fixated on Harry and her wide mouth curled even more.

"Wow, Drakey! I didn't know you knew Harry Potter!" She extended a hand out for Harry to shake but Hermione slapped down Harry's hand before he could touch her.

"It's true," said Draco. "You shouldn't do that. You don't know where that hand's been."

Lulu laughed and turned her attention to Ron. "This one's cute too."

Ron gulped and the tips of his ears caught fire. "Hey," he managed to rasp out.

Hermione turned furiously to Draco. "Mind explaining?"

"Any reason why I should?"

"I meant about this club, Draco. Are all the girls dressed like _that_?" She practically spat out the last word. Lulu continued to flirt with Ron, laughing and practically dancing in place.

"Are they all whores, you mean?" added Lulu in her musical voice, continuing to smile with Ron. "Not all. The backroom girls, sure, but the waitresses just serve the drinks."

They all turned to Draco with murderous eyes. "You brought us to a whorehouse?" Hermione scolded, her hands on her hips, ready to tear him to pieces.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't be a prude, Hermione. The thing is this place is about to be bought out by the Death Eaters so unless we get a move on, I'll have brought you straight into the monster's mouth. Get me?"

Hermione gulped and nodded. Draco whistled for Lulu's attention. She stood erect and saluted him. "Yes, sir!"

"Lulu, a hiding place, please?"

She smiled and gestured for them to follow her. "There's a room we use to hide the costumes from the Ministry on the monthly inspections. It's completely hidden and I'll tell Marci not to show it while they're giving the buyers the tour."

They agreed and followed her up the stairs to a narrow wooden hallway. The whole club had been made to look like a colonial American whorehouse of the 1700s, down to the low ceilings and randomly roaming animals. The girls were giggling on their way, ignoring the trio completely but managing to smirk at Draco. Every single one smiled at him flirtatiously. He smiled back but showed no real interest in following them back to their rooms. Hermione took that as a good sign though it in no way atoned for his poor judgment in bringing them here.

They entered the room and Lulu closed the sliding door behind her. The room had a single light bulb above their heads, uncovered and flickering randomly. The costumes were indeed costumes, not just the period pieces of flimsy lace they wore outside. Hermione started to walk the racks just to pass the time. She found a dress she found quite pretty before realizing it was a Little Bo Peep costume and that the staff was not used to handle sheep.

She grimaced but continued searching the outfits, trying to avoid Draco's eyes. She knew he was watching her. In the dimly lit room, she was all there was to look at. The boys had taken seats on the floor in a corner and were looking over the Manor maps once more as Hermione had instructed they did the night before.

An hour later, Hermione got tired of looking and sat down in the corner farthest from Draco, hugging her knees and dreading the conditions of the floor. From time to time, when the room upstairs was in use, noises started to pour down and the light bulb on the long wire swung from side to side. Dust from the wooden planks in the ceiling crashed down upon them, illuminated like magic dust by the crappy lighting.

Draco could see how uncomfortable Hermione was even from the other side of the dark room. He got tired of just watching, praying she looked up, and stood up. Harry and Ron watched him rest his long limbs down beside her, his back to the wall. She still didn't acknowledge him.

"Hermione," he crooned. "Don't be like that."

"Like what?" she practically growled, resting her chin on her knees and brining her legs closer to her chest.

"I was the son of Lucius Malfoy, Hermione. Of course I would come to places like this." She furrowed her brow and finally turned to look at him, her eyes demanding an elaboration. "I guess it wasn't known much in your circles but it was certainly public knowledge in mine. My father rarely spent a night at home, if you know what I mean."

She wanted to seem piteous but all she could manage was to look sad like someone had killed her puppy and she was deciding where to bury it.

"Sorry," she whispered, aware that Harry and Ron were staring. "You're right. It shouldn't bother me. I'm more or less an adult. I should have known you wouldn't be—"

"A virgin?" Draco said with a small laugh. "You thought I was a virgin?"

"Well, I suspected you weren't but I never imagined you came to these sort of places."

He shrugged. "Good way to spend a Friday night. I didn't fuck them all if that's what you're worried about. Lulu there's my favorite."

She shot him a look of disgust.

"What? That _didn't_ make you feel better?"

His innocent eyes just made her want to laugh so she did and the whole room became a little less tense. Ron and Harry were dead quiet, trying to listen though not getting much. The room didn't have great acoustics and Hermione was sure it was on purpose. Nobody could hear them from the outside, should they want to keep animals in here. She didn't want to know what they did with the animals.

"Fuck her often?" Hermione joked, trying to seem alright with the situation.

"Not too often, no," said Draco with a smile.

"They all smiled at you like you were a piece of chocolate cake. You sure you had _one_ favorite?"

He laughed even louder. It was funny to see her try to act brave. "It's not my fault if Lulu sang my praises to the other girls."

"Cocky bastard, aren't you?"

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, still smiling. "I like to think so, yes."

Feeling instantly relaxed by his touch, she slowly leaned her head on his shoulder as if testing to see if he was solid. "Jokes aside, Hermione, they're smiling at my money. My family name paints a very large target on my forehead to these girls. It has nothing to do with my… cockiness. Though, I'm sure it may contribute some."

She laughed and slapped his chest playfully, letting her hand rest there. "How long do we have to be here?"

He shrugged. "Just pray they don't decide to take advantage of the girls' services tonight."

She groaned and scooted closer to him, letting her eyes flutter close. None of them had slept well the night before. She drifted off after a few hours of waiting to be retrieved. She took full advantage of Draco's warmth and his shoulder. After some time, he let her slide down and rest her head on his lap. It made it easier to stroke her hair as she slept.

He was surprised by how natural it felt to take care of her. It didn't feel like an obligation for all she had done for him so far. He closed his eyes and imagined the gardens back home, imagined caressing her hair back just like this on the benches of the south side as he fed the peacocks and she read to him.

Ron jabbed Harry in the ribs with his elbow, spooking him awake. "What's up, Ron?" he asked, still half-asleep.

Ron nodded towards the two in the wall near the costume racks. "Are those two for real, you think?"

"They look it," answered Harry, sobering up a little. He had to wipe the drool off with the back of his sleeve but he was more or less conscious now. "Looks kind of nice."

"I don't trust him."

Harry gave a sharp laugh of disbelief, checking to see that they hadn't woken. "And I do?" he hissed. "No one in their right mind would. But she insisted on coming and we're not going to leave them alone now, are we?"

"It's a trap isn't it?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes it bloody well matters!" Harry shushed him and slapped his arm, gesturing for him to lower his voice. Ron seemed suddenly guilty, staring across the room at Draco and Hermione. Harry gave him a tell-me-or-I'll-bug-you-until-you-do look. Ron sighed and confessed, "I kissed her a few weeks ago and I sort of knew she wasn't into it. I think I knew she was into Draco, Harry, but I just didn't want to see it. I feel like I—well, like I took advantage of her."

Harry laughed. "You didn't know, Ron. Nobody knew, but _especially_ not you. We don't even know if they're together. She's kind. He could be just another SPEW repeat, or they might just be friends. I honestly don't think she feels taken advantage of."

Ron nodded and quickly changed the subject. "How much longer to the Manor?"

Harry shrugged. "Depends on how long we're stuck here and how long the Knight Bus takes. Why? You in a hurry to walk into the enemy stronghold?"

He scoffed. "No. I'd rather take a Potions final. I just don't think I can look at those two anymore without throwing up." Harry laughed softly and settled his head back, ready to fall asleep again, when Ron suddenly asked, "Hey, Har? What really happened to Ginny?"

At this, Harry's eyes shot open to the wide room, seeing nothing but her scared, petrified face and the gentle tears that had caressed her face as he left.

"She didn't think it was worth it," he lied through the bile gathering at his throat, knowing Ron would believe anything he said. Ron would never accept the truth. Ron could never understand his reasons for doing what he did.

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_Who else hates the nickname Drakey? Ugh. We're off to see the wizard soon! Heh. Don't forget to review with your song selection for the fan playlist and thank you all who've reviewed so far! Your happy reactions are all that's keeping me writing. _

_ALSO! Before I forget! This is not the last chapter they spend in Club Daemos. In fact, Hermione is going to get to try on some of the costumes. *insert evil laugh here*_

**Reviews are better than putting Draco Malfoy and chocolate cake in the same sentence. **


	12. Niece of Staf

**CHAPTER TWELVE:** _Niece of Staf_

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_Can you frakkin' believe we're at chapter 12 already?! It's only been two weeks. I kind of like this chapter. It's less fluffy but it's slowly becoming a little bit more rated M. I warned you all at the beginning. Warning again. M! Don't complain! There's no sex in this one, just a few close calls. _

_Many thanks to WiccaWitch for being my 150__th__ reviewer, and for the lovely, elaborate reviews she gives to each chapter. _

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Draco and Hermione, who were closest to the door, were woken by a soft knock and the sounds of sliding wood. Lulu tiptoed in, looking terrified. Draco gently sat Hermione up against the wall and stood to speak to the poor girl. Her skirt seemed torn, her face smudged with blood. Her corset had been put back in place clumsily, in a hurry.

"Lu, what the hell happened to you?" Draco asked, holding her by the arms so she wouldn't collapse. "Who did this to you?"

"I don't have much time. They're taking over, Draco," she hissed, trembling in his arms. Hermione hurried to her feet and helped Draco sit her down. "The buyer's name is Brius. He's got his own ideas on ownership and he's brought his mates to try out the merchandise."

Hermione realized what she meant and gasped. She slid open the door again slowly and poked an ear out. She could hear the screams in the distance, the furniture being thrown around at will. She cursed and shut the door quickly. She hurried to wake the boys, her heart fluttering like a hummingbird's.

"Draco, we can't let this happen," she said, raking her hand through her hair and pacing back and force across the room. The others saw her worried face and Lulu's condition and instantly jumped to their feet. Ron knelt down by Lulu and wrapped his arms around her, whispering sweet things to keep her quiet.

"She's right. We're not just leaving them to this," said Harry, taking out his wand.

Draco scoffed and gestured he put it away. "You're the most recognizable person in this room, Potter. These are Death Eaters. They have your picture tacked to their dart boards. And Weasley's hair can be spotted from space. You can't get caught in this. They'll torture you to death."

"So what do we do?" Ron asked. "We can't just sit here twiddling our thumbs while the girls are getting raped."

Everyone looked to Draco who had donned a sort of determined expression not to be reckoned with. Hermione knew whatever he was going to suggest was going to be dire but necessary and nothing could change his mind.

"I'm going. You people stay here."

Despite herself, Hermione complained. "Yea, why not walk straight into the giant guns? I'm sure it'll only hurt for a second. Look, if something happens to you, they're going to do to your mum what they're doing to these girls. Or worse. We need you to get into the Manor."

He looked right through her to the door and walked right by her. She clutched his arm, a tear escaping her eye. "Hermione, let me go!" he shouted.

"What makes you any less important than the rest of us?" she spouted.

He stared at her, at her lips, wanting desperately to kiss her goodbye. But, if she thought it was goodbye, he knew she would never let him go. "I'll be right back, 'Mione," he said with a false smile and calm, sweet demeanor. "Don't worry. I have a plan."

Though she knew it was a lie, she got up onto the tips of her shoes and kissed him on the cheek. She leaned over and whispered into his ear, "It better be a fucking good plan."

He laughed and nodded to Harry and Ron as if they came to an accord. "When the noise starts, wait for the hallway to clear then go out the back alley. It's a red door. You can't miss it. I'll meet you… I'll meet you at Hotel Gravita in downtown tomorrow morning. If I'm not there tomorrow, you go home. I mean it."

She turned back and saw in the boys' faces what Draco meant with his nod and stare. He'd silently told them to watch over her. The words were meaningless. She looked at him for a moment, fighting with herself on whether to tell him she loved him. If she told him, it meant he wasn't coming back and that was just logically improbable. Of course he would come back.

She gulped and let go of his arm, and he reluctantly left to save this little piece of his horrid world.

-----

Draco took a moment after he left Hermione to gather his mental strength. He had never had to do something like this. Potter was the lying, manipulative one. Hermione was the tricky conceiver of plans. He was just the kid scared shitless in the background. God help him. He was just like Ron.

He gulped and shook his head, receiving new strength from the intense desire not to be like Weasley. He set those ridiculous thoughts aside and started knocking on doors. Door after door, telling the girls to meet at the front of the club.

"What the hell's going on here!" sounded a few male voices, charging out of their rooms and into the street. He ignored them with his most confident smirk and walked right through the wooden hallways to the stage at the front. The remaining gentlemen had to of course be the Death Eater party.

With an expert smugness to him, he announced, "Would you gentleman like to explain to me what you're doing in my club?"

Everyone went silent.

Brius, the obviously arrogant one with blood on his messy shirt, cleared his throat and stepped forward through the crowd of half-naked men and women. "Who would you be?" he asked in his booming voice, whipping back a long main of jet black hair. Draco had a theory about men with long hair. They were usually the most self-conscious. Just look at his father. If anyone dared insult his virility… well, if no one ever did, he might not have been born.

Draco rolled up his shirt sleeves, casually revealing his Dark Mark. The girls had all seen it when Draco was fifteen and ran these hallways buck naked, calling out "Here, Kitty!" to Lulu. The other men, most of whom did not have it, knew to respect him.

"Ah, Draco Malfoy," said Brius. "I should have recognized you sooner, boy."

"Brius, is it? I ask again. What are you doing in my club?"

"This is _my_ club, son," he said, crossing his arms.

"Really? Since when?" asked Draco, mimicking his stance. If there was one thing Draco knew it was how to be a confrontational son of a bitch. And how to recognize a confrontational son of a bitch. Brius here was a confrontational son of a bitch.

"The previous owners were mysteriously decapitated. According to the Ministry laws, should there be no family connections, the first person to assume the costs to the location could lay claim."

Draco laughed, just trying to buy some time. "But there is a family connection. The niece of Carla Staf and I have been in negotiations for weeks. I have already put down two thousand galleons for the location. If you'd like to contest my offer, I would of course consider it. Otherwise, I would very much like it if you stopped _abusing_ my ladies' hospitality and left the premises."

"Three thousand galleons, then," growled Brius. It was three times what the place was worth.

Draco smirked. He went to reply with a higher offer but another voice within the crowd made his words freeze at his throat. "I'm afraid I have already accepted Mr. Malfoy's _very_ generous offer," a girl in the back said. They cleared the path for her.

From afar, Draco did think she bore a slight resemblance to Carla. She had a similar mane of dark, curly hair reaching halfway down her back and the same swelling bosom escaping her red corset, her black lace skirt leaving almost nothing to the imagination. The closer she got through the crowd, the more Draco started to notice the curve of her waist, the shade of her skin, the lack of freckles that had riddled Carla's body from head to toe. This girl was gorgeous. This girl had to be a figment of his imagination.

This girl was… Hermione?

She stood up next to him on the stage, practically draping herself over him. Draco thought the potion had to be failing because, even though he was standing perfectly still, parts of him were still moving.

"Please to meet you, Mr. Brius was it?" she said with a strange Southern drawl. She playfully ran her hand up the back of Draco's shirt. He thought he was going to sweat out a river. "As you can see, Drakey here has been very convincing with his plans for this place and my aunt's girls. It just so happened that we should visit today to inspect the location."

"Is that so," said Brius, his tone instantly subdued. He uncrossed his arms and let them rest down by his side in subconscious defeat. He stared wide-eyed at Hermione, wishing as did every other man in that room to be the young boy on her arm. "I might be able to make a similar argument if given the chance."

The men turned to face him then back at Hermione, waiting for her answer. She looked obviously uncomfortable but simply cleared her throat and tried to copy Draco's smug smirk. "That won't be possible, sir."

"Why not?" The arms crossed again. He stiffened his stance. He was brewing something. Draco saw it immediately in his eyes. Brius didn't want Daemos anymore. He wanted Hermione. "This is still Club Daemos, and at Club Daemos I can put down three galleons and get any girl in the place."

"Don't try your luck Brius. Ms. Staf is included in my contract. I get exclusive rights to her as well."

Hermione was having a little trouble believing this was actually happening. She wasn't even sure what they were negotiating anymore. Had she made her disguise a little too convincing? She had used the costumes in the room and the picture of Carla and Sylvia on the hallway wall when she altered her hair and whatnot. She had decided to leave the safe room long before she heard him talk about the fictional niece.

Great. So she really did look like a hooker.

A desirable one at that.

"The contract has not yet been formalized, has it? Surely one night would be enough to—"

"No," she growled, starting to lose her Southern drawl. "Now kindly vacate my club."

Draco had stopped speaking. He just stared at Brius like he was about to be made a snack. Hermione began to notice Draco's muscles move and rearrange beneath the thin layer of cloth. She gripped him tighter, trying to hold him together, when she began to feel the potion slipping. She wasn't scared. She was yearning for him.

Something about the way Draco looked at him and the way Hermione looked at Draco made everyone in the room extremely uncomfortable. It was as if they were releasing waves of warning, silently claiming each other.

Brius and the whole crowd soon started retreating to their rooms awkwardly, bowing down slightly as they retreated. When they reached a certain point, Draco snapped out of the trance and turned his attention back to the creature in his arms. Their eyes met and something inexplicable happened. Like before, there was no one else in the world.

He turned his whole body to her, running his hands down the sides of her waist and thighs. On the way up, her skirt followed and they stumbled back against the wall. He pressed himself against her and hovered over her lips. He felt like he was breathing in fire.

"Draco…" she whispered, staring at his lips. "Stop me."

With that, the fire died. The world came crashing back in and he pushed away, cursing mildly. He refused to look her in the eyes again, afraid the animal nature would take over. "I'm sorry," he said.

She covered her own eyes to hide the glowing gold threatening to take her over. "I'm sorry too. I wasn't in control. I'm the one in heat."

They were alone now. It was night outside. "We have to meet Potter and Weasley. They'll be worrying."

She cleared her throat and straightened the remains of her skirt. Her corset needed adjusting and she was pretty sure the charms she'd used to alter her appearance were wearing off. She didn't want him to see her like herself, undesirable and meek.

"I'll go change and we'll go."

As she walked away, he dared take the first look at her form. For a moment, just a moment, he thought her whole body was glowing the same brilliant gold.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

-----

As Draco paced before the entrance to the secret room where she'd left her clothes, Lulu came running down the hall into his arms yet again. He barely noticed.

"All the girls okay?"

She nodded, a bit sadder. "Thanks to our new owner."

He laughed. "I was lying, you know. I don't really want to—" Before he could finish, she'd covered his mouth with hers and was pushing him against the wall the way he'd done to Hermione an hour ago. Only, unlike his previous rendezvous, Lulu was less afraid of using her hands.

He easily pushed her away, licking his lips to hide the evidence. Her lipstick was a very strong shade of purple and tasted like blueberries. "I was just trying to thank you… What's wrong, Dra—"

"Don't call me that, ok?"

She shed her innocent façade and looked back at the closed entrance to the secret room. "It's her, huh? She's special… like you used to say I was."

"Oh God, Lu, don't tell me you fell in love with me."

Lulu laughed. She stepped back from him, no longer that interested. "Girls like me don't fall in love, Draco Malfoy. It's our job to make _you_ fall in love with _us_. I never could make you, could I? You came back every once in a while and every time you asked for me but I knew you didn't care."

He looked down, a tad ashamed. Why did he feel like he had hurt this poor girl's feelings?

"Don't worry," she said with a small smile. "I'm just jealous, is all. I saw her go up there, following your lead all brave. We all knew you were lying but she almost had us convinced. I approve."

He scoffed. "There's nothing to approve of, Lu. We're not like that."

At that, Lulu burst out laughing so hard that she bent over holding her sides. She let free a few ties on her corset so she could breathe better and tried to compose her face yet again. "You silly bint," she said through a wall of chuckles. "Oh man. Wait till I tell the girls that one. 'We're not like that.' Ha! And I'm Mary, Queen of Scots!"

He stood against the wall, shocked. "You don't understand. It's magic. We're not in control of ourselves. She doesn't love me. She just—"

"Wants you for your body?" She burst out laughing again. Draco had to help her out of her corset entirely, leaving her in the flimsiest of white undergarments. "Draco, you've turned into the whore and she's… she's YOU!"

His eyes widened. He understood how she might see it that way. But if she was right, Hermione was the one seeking the fantasy, not him. And all he wanted was for _her_ to feel for him. He let Lu laugh since she rarely got to genuinely do so in this place and slipped a little white card into her hand. She gave him a curious look.

"This is for you," he said. "That's the card of the goblin who handles my family's vault at Gringott's. Give him your name and he'll withdraw three thousand galleons for you, more than enough for you to clean yourself and this place up."

"What?" she whispered, her usual clingy giddiness gone. Even her voice lowered.

"It's an investment though," he warned. "You're the only one I can trust with it. I'll be back in a month to check up on you. At the very least, get rid of the animals and these torture devices you call corsets."

She laughed, slipped the card into her bra, and hugged him sweetly, gently. She had never hugged him like that before. No one but Hermione hugged him that way.

"Go on, you," he said into her neck, patting her behind lightly. "Go tell the girls they can afford to kick out the ugly ones."

Lulu laughed and kissed him softly on the cheek just as Hermione slid the door of the secret room open. He caught her eyes, too startled to look anywhere else, but found her smiling. The gold was gone. All of it. Lulu turned around and went to hug her too then hurried down the halls waving the card and shouting for Marci.

"That was a good thing you did, Draco Malfoy," said Hermione, their coats in her hands and her bag over her shoulder. Her hair was back to the original size and shape and her chest wasn't as bulging. Though her waist remained, her general shape. Those eyes were always hers, that kind smile. He didn't miss the Niece of Staf. She had nothing on his Hermione.

"Took the potion?" he asked somberly, trying to change the subject. He didn't want to seem soft in front of her. He didn't want her to see the good man so she wouldn't miss him when he hurt her. He knew someone was getting out of this hurt. He just prayed it was him.

"Yes," she smiled brightly as though it were right to kill her lust for him. As far as he was concerned, she was killing her love for him as well.

"Come on. Potter and Weasley are waiting for us at the hotel, if they didn't get sidetracked in a room upstairs."

She noticed the way his eyes half closed and his lips were down-turned and decided there was no reason to go to Gravita yet. The boys were surely safe. There would be a bed waiting for her. They were in now hurry to the Manor. Whether they arrived before or after Narcissa's entourage, it didn't matter to the cause, and the others still had to penetrate the Manor's defenses.

He took her wrist, not her hand, and went to lead her out the back door. She pulled away, refusing to move from the doorway to the secret room. "No," she announced, chin high. "We won't be hidden, Draco Malfoy."

He gulped and looked around, sure she was speaking to someone else. "Excuse me?"

"Come on," she said, intertwining her fingers with his and leading him to the front door like the couple they could never be back at Hogwarts. "I owe you dinner!"

-----

_If you're wondering what happened to her bite scar over her heart when she put on that revealing corset, it was hidden with those spells she used to look more like Carla's picture. The club itself was inspired by the beginning scenes of _Wild Wild West_, down to the animals, and in some parts by _Far and Away_, both great movies. _

_**Also**! My friend Jocelyn (GothicLust) decided that this story wasn't ridiculous enough and wrote her own little spoofs. The links to them are at the bottom of my profile. Leave her comments and suggestions. And feel free to make your own spoof! Just let me know before you post._

**Reviews are better than black lace running through his long fingers. **


	13. Dinner and a Showdown

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN:** _Dinner and a Showdown_

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_I've been told there's no sense of urgency to get to Malfoy Manor and I was somewhat aware of it while writing but since I'm always rushing them around the place in my other works, I thought I'd leave Narcissa's condition up in the air and work on my comedic muscles. They need to actually get to know each other before they start saying the L word and risking their lives for each other. You'll see when they get there that they really didn't need to rush. Just enjoy the fluffy parts. First kiss is on the way! …sorta. _

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He froze, no strength left in him to resist, and let her guide him out the front door. He had never come out this way but the sun had just set and the front of the club had been disguised as an abandoned café. Nobody would notice the couple coming down the walk hand in hand.

Draco's hair stood out in the night but no one would think twice that is was him. He was supposed to be at Hogwarts, not mingling with Mudbloods in the middle of London. Though he wasn't quite so worried, Hermione had never really gone walking anywhere alone with a boy. Well, Ron and Harry really didn't count.

What's more… was this a date? Or just dinner? Should she be nervous?

He felt the sweat gather on her palms and brought her closer, draping his arm over her shoulder. It didn't make her any less nervous, just more comfortable in the chilly night air.

He led her to a little corner restaurant, candle-lit. They wouldn't have her favorites but it was close enough. He led her to a booth in the back. She assumed by his sense of direction through such a dark restaurant that he had been there before.

She took off her coat and set it down beside her. It gave Draco a tiny peek at the scar on her chest, just over her heart. It lasted a second but he wouldn't forget it all dinner, a taunting memory of what he'd done to her.

Draco ordered something. She didn't remember what but she ordered the same. She didn't want to look down at the menu. She wanted to watch him as long as she possibly could before the potion wore off. He noticed and set down his water glass, turning it into a staring contest. She laughed and turned away.

"Sorry."

He shook his head. "No, I get it."

"Without the potion, all I—"

"I get it. Really."

An awkward silence followed when they realized the table between them was far too small and they were close enough to kiss. She gulped and turned away again, looking to her hands on her lap for infinite entertainment.

"I talked to Lulu for a bit," she burst out suddenly. Draco had noticed that she had no filter. When she thought of something, she said it. He didn't know if it was endearing or annoying. So far, it was the former.

"What about?" he indulged her. He wanted them to talk. He didn't care about what.

"Well you, of course. She said you were her first. She yours?"

He laughed and blushed red. "Are you sure you want to get into this?"

She shook her head no but answered, "Yes."

Draco took another swig of water, rested his hands on the table, and leaned forward so she knew he was serious. "I wasn't her first. I was just her first _client_."

"She said you read to her."

He laughed, even more embarrassed, and nodded. "I was three days away from turning 14. My father thought it was a nice gift to take me now that I was about to become a man. Lulu was the youngest one there, just 17, so they set her to entertain me."

"Of course."

He stopped to smile then continued, "We'd just come back from Diagon Alley – it was June – so I had this giant bag of books with me. They set us up in I think the Arabian room. She was terrified. I was terrified. I took one bundle of pillow. She took the one farthest away from me. I set out my books and we spent my hour there, reading."

At this, Hermione laughed. "You read to a hooker?"

"Well, I didn't want to fuck her! I didn't know her!" he said a bit too loudly. She slipped her hand away from her lap and placed it over his, looking around to make sure no one had heard. She shot an old couple near them an apologetic look. She never really took back her hand. "I was reading. She thought I was interesting and asked me to read to her. Then, before I left, she tossed my hair around a little so nobody would be the wiser. We did that all three times I went that year. Then last year, well, I had chance meeting with a girl named Antonia Birkingstock at my fifteen birthday party and… Let's just say Lulu was extremely surprised the next time."

"So Lulu wasn't your first?"

He gave a single nod and they pulled their hands apart so the waiter could set down their plates. "She was my third," he finally said after the waiter had left. "Though by far my favorite. Let's just say she really liked it when I read her the Marquis de Sade."

Hermione grimaced and put down her fork. "That's sick!"

"Maybe." He shrugged. "I've had no complaints so far."

They didn't talk for some time after that, their eyes refusing to meet again. They finished their dinner and before dessert could arrive, Draco finally got the courage to ask, "What about you?"

She jumped, startled to hear his voice after so long. "What about me?"

"Your first?"

She shook her head, no restraint or shame at her answer. "No first."

Suddenly, his heart was aflutter with excitement. "Not Weasley? Not Krum? Not Potter?"

"Not even close!" She started laughing almost as hard as Lulu back at the club. Then, after the laughter subsided, she whispered, "It's never going to happen."

He set his plate aside and leaned in again. "What do you mean?" His voice was urgent.

She looked around and focused on a vase of lilies sitting on the nearest empty table. "We're werewolves, Draco," she answered, her bottom lip trembling. "We're special. Look at what happened to Ron. Look at what happens every time we're in the same room together. If I ever… I can't lose control, Draco. I can't allow myself to get close to anyone."

Draco wanted very much to vomit. Her voice was steady, determined. She was analyzing this rationally and had accepted her fate but he couldn't help but feel sick at the thought of what he had done to her. If he couldn't make her happy, he thought she at least got to be with someone better.

She deserved someone better. And he had inadvertently insured that it would never happen.

He gulped and offered the only consolation he had to give. "You still have me, you know."

Her eyes shot to him, begging an explanation.

He couldn't bear her stare but continued, "If you ever decide you want to lose control, you can't hurt me. You don't have to be afraid with me."

"Draco, are you offering—"

He gulped and took another long, deep drink of his water with a face like he was chugging down vodka. "It was just a suggestion. Since I'm the son of a bitch who did this to you, it's the least I can do."

They didn't talk again after that but a deal had been struck. If she ever wanted it, he would give it. And he had made a pact with himself to care for her until the day came, even if it meant staying away and letting her live the life she deserved.

-----

They got to the hotel around 9:00. They didn't dawdle after dinner. Aside from the commonplace Thank You's when he opened a door, they didn't talk. They barely looked each other in the face, barely touched. They could have been two perfect strangers walking side by side. Maybe they were.

They got up to the hotel desk and Draco began asking if Potter or Weasley had registered. The person at the desk checked his scrolls but there was nothing. "I'm sorry," he said. "There's no one here by those names, sir."

Hermione cleared her throat and Draco stepped aside. "Black," she said, perfectly sure. "It'll be under Black. S or J."

The scroll spit out a name. "Yes, yes. James Black, party of two. They're expecting two more. I assume they would be you. They're in rooms 365 and 367, my last two adjoining rooms."

Draco thanked him generously and they mounted the elevator towards the third floor. They knocked twice on the door of room 365 before Harry opened, wand in hand and ready for an attack. Hermione laughed and jumped in his arms.

"Oh Harry, you're okay!" she shouted as Harry stepped them aside so Draco could enter. Immediately, Draco seemed to own the room, surveying it with a face of displeasure.

"Potter, you couldn't have gotten something better?"

Harry scoffed and pried Hermione off him. "It was the last they had in the same hall. You're the one who suggested the hotel."

"Because it was closest. I suppose it can't be avoided."

Harry and Hermione both rolled their eyes at each other, sharing a secret laugh. Some things really never did change. Ron sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV, staring like a drug addict at a laser show. "Ron, you alright there?" Hermione asked, removing her scarf and bag. Draco automatically helped her get her coat off, the instinct of a reluctant gentleman. Ron just nodded and continued staring at what looked like reruns of Sailor Moon. She imagined it was the equivalent of porn to him.

Draco continued to survey the rooms, crossing the door to room 367 which was exactly the same. Same white walls, same dinner table near the TV, same king-sized bed… one bed in each room?

"Whoa. What are we going to do about the sleeping arrangements?" he asked, poking his head back into 365. Hermione sighed and went to look, ready to find a cot on the floor. No, it was a perfectly lovely bed with enough pillows to recreate Notre Dame.

"What's the problem?" she asked.

"Are we actually sleeping here tonight?" added Harry, digging into a pint of Haagen Dazs like a middle aged woman after her period. She realized they probably hadn't eaten.

"Of course!" shouted Draco, throwing his arms up in the air with frustration. "Didn't you read the mission statement I attached to the maps? It takes less than an hour by Knight Bus to get to the jails in Wiltshire. But, they aren't open until 10:00 in the morning. They're impenetrable otherwise."

"We're going to jail?" asked Ron, continuing to stare slack-jawed at the flat screen.

Hermione shrugged and turned to Draco. "You can have the room. I'll sleep over here with the boys."

Draco looked from her to Harry to Ron and back to her. "You're going to sleep… with them?"

"I can conjure up a little bed here and—" He waved a hand to stop her.

"Don't be ridiculous. Get the big bed. I'll sleep here with them."

"You _could_ just sleep together," proposed Harry in the distance through a mouthful of ice cream. "It's not like it's a bloody crime."

Nobody paid attention to him so he just put his feet up on the dinner table and continued to drown himself in Rocky Road. Hermione licked her lips and turned to Harry. Something was wrong. He looked… wrong. He looked like he was dreading his own execution.

"Fine," she whispered over her concern. "I'll take the room. Just don't kill them."

With that, she crossed into the other room and closed the adjoining door behind her. "What's up with her?" asked Ron, still fixated. Draco rolled his eyes, shut off the TV, and conjured himself up a bed out of the dining room table. It was in the perfect location so if Hermione ever opened her door, they could do as they did back home and keep an eye on each other. But her door never opened and Draco had to fight to sleep over the sound of Harry's snores and Ron's cries for help from the evil, mini-skirt-wearing spider people of Planet Tarantella.

-----

Around three in the morning, Draco was still awake and staring at the boring white ceiling, his arms up behind his head. At least back at Hogwarts, he could bewitch the canopy of his bed to look like the night sky. Here, he wasn't allowed to mess with hotel property. How irritating a night. On top of everything, he was sure he'd had the most boring dinner of his life with the girl he most wanted to impress. She could make a very proud man feel very small and very guilty and he was greatly impressed by _her_.

Just when his eyes started to droop, he heard a small mumbling sound coming from Hermione's room. He sat up and tried to concentrate harder. He heard small footsteps and more mumbling and not one but four speedy heartbeats. A petrificus totalus spell was cast and the mumble turned into a small scream.

He didn't think it twice and jumped out of bed, reaching for his wand under his pillow. He threw his shoe at Harry and Ron and hissed at them to be quiet. He pointed at the door and Harry was the first to react, counting to three and pushing in the door.

He called out, "Locomotor mortis!" at two of the figures next to the bed, rendering them immobile. Meanwhile, Draco called out a mobiliarbus spell at a figure moving closest to Hermione's sleeping form. It let out a feminine scream and flew up to the ceiling, followed by a loud cracking sound, then crashed down to the floor.

Ron, terrified the spider people had come, came running after them with his own ruddy wand. "Lumos!" he shouted and the room filled up with light.

Hermione sat up, looking horribly worried at the smallest figure lying unconscious on the floor in a long, black cloak. It had long fiery red hair streaming over its face. Harry's eyes wanted to explode out of his eyes and he ran to her side.

"GINNY!" he called out. "Ginny, please wake up!"

Draco went to the other two figures but realized they'd already been petrified before they got there. They were Death Eaters, he saw by their marks and their masks. He didn't recognize either of them. Sure the situation was under control, he crawled up onto the large bed and wrapped his arms around a wide-eyed Hermione.

"Is she okay?" she yelled at Harry who seemed to be cradling Ginny's head in his lap.

Draco pulled away from Hermione and looked at the victim of his mobiliarbus spell. "I didn't throw her that hard! I promise!"

Hermione pushed away from him and hurried down beside Ginny. She used Harry's wand to survey the damage but they had no way of knowing if she would be all right. Just then, she slowly began to open her eyes and Harry gave the happiest laugh of relief any of them had ever heard.

"Oh thank God you're okay, Gin," said Ron who knelt down by her hand.

Ginny took a look around at Draco near the two Death Eaters and asked with a hoarse voice, "Are they still petrified?"

Harry smoothed her hair back from her eyes and nodded furtively. Ron looked up at him, confused. He didn't understand the look on Harry's face. It was… it was just like Draco's. It was a blind worry, a concentrated dread and concern towards a single person's well-being. It was… love?

He stood up and took a step back, letting Hermione in to treat her better. Just then, Ginny cleared her throat and sat up on her own. She looked around once more and her eyes settled on Harry. Before he could even think of what to say, she lifted one limp hand off the floor and slapped Harry across the face with all the strength he could muster.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" shouted Draco. "I was the one who threw you, not him!"

"I don't care who threw me," she spat. "This son of a bitch left me petrified in Hogsmeade!"

Everyone turned to Harry for an explanation. "You petrified my sister?" shouted Ron, pointing his wand at Harry's head. "You bastard!"

Harry looked to Draco who nodded. An accord. "Relax, Weasley," said Draco, walking confidently between Harry and Ron's wand. "He didn't mean her any harm. Just the opposite."

"What?" Ron yelled again, turning his wand to Draco's pointy nose. Draco just looked bored and moved the wand aside with his hand.

"He cares about her, Weasley!" Draco explained. "He didn't want her to get hurt. So, he tied her up and left her somewhere safe. You should be thanking him."

"You knew about this?" asked Hermione, standing beside Ron.

Draco couldn't stand to look her in the eye. "I didn't know the specifics," he admitted, turning down to his feet in shame. "I just… I get it. I get why he did it."

Ron continued to glare, his fist tight around his wand. "How? Why?"

"Because I would have done the same!" he finally shouted, breaking his cool exterior. "I almost did it for Hermione! It's what you do when you _love_ someone! You keep them safe!"

Hermione covered her eyes with her right palm and turned away, back to her bed to find a coat or something to keep her warm. After all, no one would be going back to bed tonight. Ginny most likely had a concussion and needed to be kept awake.

Ron stared at Harry from across the room like he was ready to commit murder. Ginny didn't know whether to cuddle up to Harry or castrate him, and Draco just went back to staring at the ceiling with great distaste.

"It's going to be a _long_ journey," sighed Hermione to herself on the couch beside Ron, opening one of her books and settling in for the long wait till morn.

-----

_I'm not totally happy with the chapter but Ginny was always set to return. She'll explain next chapter how she found them and everything. Don't worry. Oh! And it won't be their last dinner together! So don't be disappointed that she didn't tell him she loved him. I can't wait for you all to read when she does. It's kind of epic in its simplicity. Thanks for reading so far!_

**Reviews are better than being rescued by Draco Malfoy. **


	14. Monsters

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN:** _Monsters_

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_The Death Eaters were petrified and doubly immobilized. They're not going anywhere. Don't worry about it! As for the kiss, I ALMOST gave in and wrote it into the beginning of this chapter but I promised myself they wouldn't yet and damn it, I'm keeping that promise. So, too bad. Enjoy!_

-----

They hadn't talked for three hours. Three very long, very tense hours. The sun was rising outside, striking Draco's face directly through a slit in the thick curtains. No matter where he moved on his bed, the light would hit him, taunting him. He hadn't been able to look into room 367 all night.

She had. She had stared at his bed for a whole hour, her face emotionless and pale as a sheet. Nobody had really noticed his confession. Nobody really cared because it was obvious. They knew he loved her. They wouldn't be there if they hadn't become friends, become close. But, she realized, nobody (not even herself) know how _she_ felt. She wasn't dense. It was just that admitting something so contrary to her common sense took all the courage her little Gryffindor heart could muster.

Fuck it. She'd take Voldemort over this eerie silence any day.

Around 7:00, Draco couldn't take it anymore and got up off the bed. Hermione watched him slip on a black t-shirt over his jeans and storm out, muttering something like, "I need coffee."

When the door closed, she exhaled deeply and leaned forward onto her knees. "What's wrong with _you_?" asked Ron, still staring at Harry and Ginny at the round dinner table. His arms crossed, he reminded Hermione of Krum.

She groaned and stood up. "I'm going after him," she announced firmly.

Ginny and Harry turned to face her. Ron stood up and took hold of her arm. "What the bloody hell for? He's getting coffee!"

She pulled away and looked from Ron to Harry to Ginny. "I have to go, Ron," she answered softly.

He didn't take his hands off her and his grip was starting to hurt the angrier he got. "You don't owe him anything, you know. Just because he said he loves you doesn't mean you have to go after him every time he has a hissy fit."

She smiled and looked at the half-open door. "I do," she told the door. "I do because…"

She didn't have to finish. Ron let go of her arm like she'd just told him she was diseased. "Hermione—" called Harry, standing reluctantly. Ginny reached for his hand, silently telling him to let her do this on her own.

"I have to go, Ron," Hermione squeaked out, stepping back towards the door. "I have to go because I love him too."

Ron's jaw dropped ever so slightly as she closed the door behind her. "Ronald, breathe," Ginny told him with a small smirk. "It could be worse. Hell, it could be Crabbe."

Harry agreed. "Oh shut up," growled Ron, going to give the unconscious Death Eaters on Hermione's bed a good kick.

"We should really do something about those two," muttered Gin, rubbing the back of her neck. "I tracked them from Club Daemos."

"When the lovebirds come back," Harry said with a sigh, setting his head back down on the table. Ginny instinctively went to caress his messy locks and in three minutes, the light snoring started yet again.

-----

Hermione, wearing nothing but her nightgown and a flimsy coat, couldn't go very far through the windy city. She settled on waiting for him on a bench next to the coffee shop. He'd probably gone for a walk, she figured and this was the only path back to Gravita so she was bound to see him. She rubbed her hands together for warmth but there was little she could do without her wand, her books. All she could do was wait for him.

She'd been waiting 16 years. What were a few moments more to tell the boy she loved the truth?

A half hour later, a blond figure was exiting a dark alleyway in the distance. Unsure if it was him, she ran nonetheless. After all, how many blond, gangly boys could be running around London at 7:00 in the morning?

The closer she got, she realized this _was_ her gangly blond boy but he was not alone. A creature – at least that's how she would describe him by his size and overgrown tusks – was hovering over Draco. He slipped him a square package, which Draco slid under his arm immediately as though it were a treasure he couldn't bear anyone else touch. She couldn't tell what the package was but it was wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with a white string.

She gulped and walked towards them slowly. They hadn't seen her yet. If they had, Draco hadn't recognized her. She slid into a coffee shop right next to the alleyway and spied through the safety of the stained glass windows. Draco shook the monster's hand and she caught a glimpse at both their Dark Marks. She gasped and covered her mouth with her palm.

Something came up behind her and tapped her shoulder. She shrieked, and spun around, her palm moving to her heart to keep it from escaping her ribs. It was an elderly woman in a green apron, her arms crossed and a look of irritation on her face.

"Young lady, St. Mungo's is on the other side of town. If you choose to wander through the street dressed like that, I can only assume you're escaped patient," the lady said.

Hermione smiled and went to explain when the little bell above the door behind her rang. She stepped aside and in walked Draco. "Hey you," he greeted, his eyes soft as though a great burden had been lifted off him. "What are you doing here? And what are you wearing?!"

He took off his coat and wrapped it around her. She surreptitiously reached into the coat pockets but the package was gone. The lady caught a look at Draco's Mark and stepped away, obviously frightened. Draco met her eyes and his momentary glee subsided. He sighed and led Hermione to a little table near the stained glass windows.

The lady pretended not to be listening in by cleaning the same glass for five minutes. "I saw you," Hermione hissed, leaning in across the table. "I saw you and that thing and I demand to know what's going on."

She didn't sound convincing enough so Draco shot up an eyebrow and gently folded his hands atop the table. "What do you think is going on?"

She reached across the table and slapped him lightly across the head. "Don't you be cocky with me, Draco Malfoy!"

He straightened his hair and, despite her outrage, Hermione got an uncontrollable desire to run her hands through the silky strands. He hadn't cut it since summer so it fell over his eyes limply yet beautifully. She knew she was angry about something… there was something she was supposed to yell at him for… oh hell, who cares.

She sighed in defeat, reached across the table, and smoothed his hair back from his eyes. He smiled as she did, his eyes focused on hers. "You take many liberties, Ms. Granger," he whispered in a husky, lustful voice. She blushed and looked down at the hem of his coat, twiddling with it as he spoke.

The longer she veered her eyes from his shape, the clearer her mind become and she remembered her quarrel. "Draco, was that man from Knockturn Alley?"

He laughed and waved the coffee lady over, completely ignoring her question. "Can I get a vanilla latte, please?" he asked, and turned to Hermione. "Would you like to order?"

She gave in and asked for chamomile tea. "Draco, answer me."

He leaned back in his little metal chair and reluctantly answered, "Yes. I took a small walk through Knockturn. BUT! It's not for what you think."

She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms. "Explain?"

He rolled his eyes. "I don't have to explain anything to you, Hermione. Now, I'm tired. I haven't slept since I met you and it's getting annoying."

She didn't want to anger him. She uncrossed her arms and smoothed out her eyes, going back to stare at the hem of his coat. "I'm sorry. You're right. You shouldn't have to keep proving to me you've changed."

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "God, Hermione, you really know how to make a guy feel guilty. I was getting something! It wasn't bad, I promise. I'm not addicted to pixie dust. I wasn't communicating with the Dark Lord. I was just buying a trinket. I was careful and it was a trinket."

She nodded though he didn't buy it. "I told you. You don't have to prove anything to me. I just happened to see you. It's not my place to ask."

He laughed and leaned forward, reaching for her hand on the table and giving it a small squeeze. "It is. You have every right to question me and if I have to, I'll spend the rest of my life proving myself to you."

She gulped as the waitress set down her chamomile tea. She practically breathed down that tea, boiling hot or not. She needed all the courage she could get and the pain of the tea seemed to rush adrenaline to her system, more so than any caffeine boost.

"Draco…" she began and he looked up from his latte, his hand still atop hers. She'd never grow used to how at home that hand felt, how much his skin seemed to make her tingle for hours after.

"Hmm?"

"Uh… I might have said something." That same eyebrow quirked up into action. He knew something was coming. "To Ron, Harry, and Ginny. I might have said something about… us."

_What am I doing?_ she thought and looked around the café. A business couple was coming in. She watched them sit against the other side. They opened up their newspapers and began talking about something trivial. No Dark Lord, no innocent "trinkets," no explanations or uncontrollable lust… She wanted what they had. She wanted the trivial, and she wondered if she would ever get that sort of security with anyone else.

She smiled and turned back to Draco who continued to wait for her to finish her thought, his eyebrow still quirked. "Hermione, you're scaring me."

"Don't be," she finally whispered, quirking her own eyebrow. "I think we're going be ok, Draco. We're going to be just fine."

-----

Ron had grown tired of sitting though he still refused to let the others talk. Instead, he took to pacing before the Death Eaters, thinking up ways to torture them. Ginny could see it in his face, the sort of malice brewing. After all, everyone in his life was growing and pairing up and falling and love. And where was he?

Still playing the sidekick.

"Ron, love, just sit down!" Ginny called from the table. "You're making me dizzy!"

Ron shot her a look like he was planning to lock her up in a closet for the rest of her life. She didn't cower away. She'd never otherwise let him have power over her. He was insane if he thought she was going to start now. She had survived Fred and George through puberty, for crying out loud!

"Ron, you listen and you listen well!" she shouted, standing onto her two wobbly feet. "They love each other! Get over it! It's not like you wanted her! You were snogging Lavender Brown in every visible corridor possible just last week. And as for me and Harry, you are an idiot – and a true idiot, not just the silly clown-like ones – if you didn't notice we fell in love last year."

"Honestly, Weasley. Even I noticed and I'm not in your house," said Draco, opening the door for Hermione. She was going to have to get used to the gentlemanly gestures. Ron and Harry had never bothered but they were her friends. They shouldn't have to.

Hermione stifled giggles, ineffectively, at Ron's startled face. Ginny tapped Harry on the shoulder so he'd wake up. "Are we talking now?" he asked drowsily. "Can we finally torture the Death Eaters?"

Everyone turned to the bed where the two men were still tied. Ron went and pulled off the silver masks, jumping back immediately. Draco instinctively brought Hermione closer as if sheltering her from the effects of a very ugly, quite deformed bomb.

"What the hell are those?!" shouted Ron, still not over the initial shock.

Ginny gagged and answered, "Their Polyjuice potion must have worn off. I saw them taking it on the way here. I could smell it a mile away. They were at Club Daemos."

Everyone turned to her, their expressions still stuck on disgust. "You followed them?" Hermione asked. By her tone, everyone understood that this was a very dangerous, very stupid thing to do.

Ginny just shrugged and smugly replied, "They were on my way here."

"How'd you know to go to Club Daemos?" asked Ron, beginning to wonder the sort of clubs his sister frequented. "How'd you know we'd be _here?_"

"It was on the mission statement, Ron. Didn't you read it?"

He threw his arms in the air, unsure of what to with himself anymore. "Nobody read the bloody mission statement, Gin!"

Hermione awkwardly raised one arm as if in a classroom. "I did."

"Glad to know my planning is appreciated by _someone_," mumbled Draco into Hermione's ear. She blushed as Draco and Ron shared deathly looks.

"I saw Draco and Hermione leaving Daemos," Ginny said, trying to break the silence. They'd had enough quiet contemplation to last them a lifetime. "Those two decided to follow you so I followed them. I think they're with Voldemort. Like, they're really connected. I mean, just look at them."

Hermione sobered instantly and looked up at Draco, placing a shaking hand over her heart. "That's us, Draco."

"What?" Harry asked, stepping towards them.

"We think You-Know-Who's trying to create a new form of werewolf, one that isn't a slave to the full moon. From what we know of ourselves, the new wolves can turn others and change at will. We're dangerous and it looks like we're not even the beginning," Draco sighed and explained so Hermione wouldn't have to. The grotesque, disfigured faces of the men took some time to absorb.

He gripped her hand a little tighter. He knew she was terrified but he had seen worse. "What happened to them?" she asked.

It looked like their faces had been chewed on by wild animals, some parts scared over in wolf form. Instead of a nose, one had a flattened wolf muzzle. The other, they weren't sure whether it could breathe like that or not.

"Great," muttered Ron. "So we've got these infectious monsters walking around that look like anyone and can trigger at any time. Bloody fucking perfect."

"It explains why Voldemort hasn't attacked in some time," added Harry. "He's been sending these monsters out trying to turn as many high officials as possible. Get the politicians, the headmasters, the mediwizards, and you break down the enemy."

Hermione looked up at Draco who seemed to have tensed against her. She let go of his hand and turned to face him, taking either cheek in her hands. Ginny watched, entertained at their interaction. She had never seen them really touch like this, openly, lovingly. But, she could tell by the way Draco jumped every so slightly at every hidden caress from her that Hermione had not told him the truth.

"Draco, what is it?" Hermione asked though Draco's furrowed brow refused to look her way. He stared over her head at the creatures tied up to the bed. She thought his bottom lip was going to start to tremble and she just wanted to glue the pieces back together. "Tell me what's wrong!"

"If he has a panic attack, can I laugh?" Ron asked Harry, who shrugged.

"He looks like he's going to be sick," said Ginny urgently, trying to walk towards them but fumbling. Harry caught her and held her in place.

Draco and Hermione seemed to be having a conversation through touch. She moved her hands from his face to his chest, feeling his pulse. She looked at the door to room 365 and knew what to do. She looked to the others and, with her most commanding noise, instructed, "You guys have an hour with these two. Get as much as you can though I don't think they'll be much help. Knock when it's done."

"Whoa, wait!" complained Harry. "What are you—Is he going to be okay?"

Hermione understood that Draco wasn't exactly number one on Harry's priorities but he was certainly on hers. They didn't need her to interrogate two Death Eaters. She was going to take care of Draco first. She nodded to Harry and gently led Draco into the boys' room, shutting the door behind her.

She pulled him towards the bed but he was still frozen, staring off nothing. She wondered if he could feel her hands in his, pulling him towards the bed. She sat him down and let him rest back on the bed like a corpse. She climbed up beside him and rested her head on his lap, stroking his hair.

"Draco," she whispered lovingly some time later. His limbs had started to relax under her touch. "I need you to say you're going to be okay. I need you to tell me what's wrong so I can fix it."

He looked up at her for the first time, taking in her concern. Something was different. This wasn't the same worry he saw on her face back at the Burrow. He relaxed completely, breathing in for what felt like the first time in hours. He curled up against her, his head still on her lap, and tried to decide whether to run away right then and there and save her from him before it got serious.

"I'm just like them," he hissed. "A monster. God, is that what you see when you look at me, what people see?"

She sighed and smiled down at him, slapping him across the back of the head jokingly like back at the café. "Don't ever do that to me again!" she laughed. "Draco, you're not a monster. If you're a monster, I'm a monster. And you couldn't very well love a monster now, could you?"

She went to stand but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back to bed. "We have all the time in the world right?" She nodded, smiling, engulfed in a halo of morning light from the only window. "Then lie with me for a moment, just a moment longer."

They knew the moment wouldn't last too long but it didn't matter. This was the last proof he needed that there was a life for him after the Death Eaters, after Voldemort. He had a life with Hermione, resting comfortably in her arms, their legs tangled together above the sheets.

-----

_So yea. She never said it but she didn't have to. Just start thinking how great it's gonna be when she actually does say it. I think one of my favorite lines in the whole story was in this chapter, the part where he says he wants to spend the rest of his life proving himself to her. It's just one of those things you fantasize about. _

_Now… I wonder what was in the box. Feel like a guess? And how will the Death Eaters play into the plot? When will they FINALLY reach the Manor? And the kiss! And the sex!_

**Reviews are better than running your fingers through Draco Malfoy's shaggy hair. **


	15. Cellmates

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN:** _Cellmates_

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_I'm sorry for the tiny delay. I wanted to make sure this chapter was fully developed before posting. You know, it's funny you're all seeing the jokes and whatnot as a sign that I don't like Ron when in fact it's a sign he's starting to see him as a friend. He's not insulting him. He's just teasing. He certainly doesn't see him as a threat anymore. And don't worry. Ron will get a chance to prove his worth later on in the story. After all, he really is a good friend. _

-----

A soft knock resonated the room, echoing inside their skulls. Hermione kissed Draco softly on the forehead and reluctantly got up to open it. On the way, she wondered which spell Gin had used to keep the Death Eaters silent because they hadn't heard a word, a scream, a giddy squeal…

"What's wrong?" she asked as she swung open the door. She gasped when she saw Harry covered in blood from head to toe, looking annoyed. She stepped back and held her nose. She peaked into the room and saw the two men engulfed in purple flames. "What the hell happened to you? What did you do?"

She'd read all about botched spells. This, as far as she knew, wasn't a normal side effects of any spell. This had to be intentional.

"They blew up on us," groaned Harry, looking back at Ginny and Ron who were in a similar state, sprayed red, their eyes drooped with the same annoyance. Draco chuckled from the bed, gliding towards Hermione as though his joints had locked stiff. He got a closer look at Harry and decided immediately that that room 367 was officially a quarantine zone and, as far as he was concerned, those three little Gryffindors were the unluckiest bastards on Earth.

He thought the whole situation was rather funny and was about to make a joke at the corpse's expense when he noticed Hermione's teary eyes. She hadn't cried when he, the man she more or less loved, thought he was an infectious monster but she had no trouble crying over these dead, disfigured strangers.

"Hail Mary," he whispered to himself, ignored by everyone.

He watched the range of expressions that crossed her face, from worry to disgust to pity… unsure of what to do to comfort her. He didn't know how she knew every caress, perfectly timed, to make him feel better. He only knew one way to make a woman feel better and Hermione didn't seem like the type to do that in front of her best friends.

"Did you guys do anything or was it spontaneous combustion?" she asked, snapping him out of her thoughts.

"Spontaneous," the four agreed.

They turned to Draco. "How'd _you_ know?"

He shrugged. "Certain of my father's possessions do that should the Ministry try to raid the Manor."

"Those aren't possession!" shouted Hermione, making Draco jump. The others were used to it. "Those were men once! They still are!"

Ginny was the first to react. Hermione was, at one time, a likely addition to the family. Ginny had grown to see her as a sister. She refused to let her get emotional and frantic while these three morons stared uselessly. She at least expected a little better of Draco but he was too intent on watching her like a patron at a zoo.

"There's nothing we can do, 'Mione. We have to leave them," she said sweetly.

Hermione glared mutinously at the boys as though Ginny had not spoken. "Harry, I pray the prophecy was right. I hope you kill the bastard who would do this to another human being."

Ginny gave up on comforting her and growled out, "I call the showers first." She stalked past Harry, who looked a little scared, stumbling a little as she went.

Harry went to help her walk but Ron instantly shouted, "Don't even think about it, mate! She's showering alone!"

"Ron, honestly!" Hermione defended. "They haven't even kissed! Get over it."

Ginny suddenly felt slightly better to have her big sis watch her back. Harry just turned red and stopped in mid-step, arms up in the air in surrender as though he'd been caught in the enemy foxhole wearing a dress. Draco took a big breath, tightened his hands into fists, and stepped into the dreaded quarantine zone.

"God, you can't even tell they're dead," he said to no one in particular, drawing closer to inspect the bodies. "You're sure they're dead?"

Harry nodded, using a napkin from the little kitchen to wipe the blood off his glasses. "They didn't say anything except for the self-destruct spell. It was something like—"

"HEY HEY HEY!" shouted Hermione. Draco finished for her, "I know I'm prettier than them but we're essentially cut from the same cloth, understand? I would very much like it if Hermione and I keep all our little pieces."

Harry nodded and went to sit on the one clean spot of couch. Ron sat on the dinner table, watching Draco inspect the bodies. Hermione observed from the doorway. "Check their pockets. See if you can find the Polyjuice potions. Barty Crouch Jr. used to keep it in a flask. They should have something similar on them."

He nodded and, with the tip of his wand, moved aside the flaps of cloth. "Jackpot!" he announced. "They've got potion vials and bags of hair, enough for a week. Ugh. These guys really are disgusting."

"They were at Club Daemos. What do you expect?" mumbled Hermione, leaned against the doorway.

"Hey, I resent that," shot back Draco, sending her a look of joking offense. She smirked devilishly while Ron gagged in the distance at their interchange. "What do you have in mind with the potions?"

"Back-up," she answered. "In case we get caught."

"We won't get caught."

"Said the mouse before he entered the maze."

Ginny exited the shower and Harry ran quickly after before the blood set too much. He'd have red pores for hours. "Are we done here?" asked Ron some time later as he towel-dried his messy hair.

Hermione had sat in the doorway between the two rooms with a notebook in her lap, running over the maps one more time and making notes. "Are we seriously just leaving the bodies here?" she asked, her attention on the maps. "Well I suppose we can't hide them. They deserve to be found and buried, hopefully by their families. There will be an inquiry, no? An investigation?"

Draco walked over to Hermione and helped her up. They were leaving this place. "No," he told her with stormy gray eyes. "They're Marked. Nobody cares if you kill a Death Eater, nobody except other Death Eaters."

She leaned up to whisper in his ear, "You're not a Death Eater anymore. And I would care."

"To Malfoy Manor?" asked Ginny, trying to hide her excitement.

"To Malfoy Manor," they all agreed.

-----

The Knight Bus pulled up in front of Hotel Gravita. The beds Harry had once seen were now replaced by lush, purple armchairs. The ride to Wiltshire was short but bumpy, as was expected. Draco held onto Hermione as much as possible but she still threw up the moment they stepped off. Nobody laughed. They all felt the same.

"I so hate public transportation," groaned Draco, stretching his arms up to the clear blue sky.

"Rich brat," mumbled Ron beneath his breath, cracking his neck.

"Damn proud." The bus had dropped them in the middle of town. The Manor could be seen in the distance, up on a hill hovering over the other little cottages. It had a long, straight driveway and yew hedges. Hermione gasped and reached for Draco's hand. "Told you they were beautiful."

Everyone turned to them. "They?"

"The peacocks," she whispered, bringing her hand to her heart.

Ron rolled his eyes and started walking towards the jail. The others ran after him and pushed him down behind a cart in the outside market. Ginny covered his mouth and punched his arm. "What, are you stupid?" she hissed.

"Is that a trick question?" said Draco, sneering. "We can't just walk into the jail, Weasley!"

Ginny removed her hand. "Why not?" he shouted.

"Ron, we're in Wiltshire. What's in Wiltshire?"

"Stonehenge?" suggested Harry.

Ron's eyes shot open with excitement. "Veelas?"

The others nodded. Harry obviously didn't get it. Hermione was just happy to sit back and not have to explain everything to them anymore. Her little boys were growing up. She was happy to explain this. "Veelas secretly run the jails in Wiltshire. They're the protectors of Stonehenge, among other things."

Harry still shrugged. "I'll never understand why the Ministry keeps putting monsters in charge of protecting important things."

Something clicked inside Hermione's busy mind. Something sinister. Something dangerous. She turned to Draco but couldn't quite decide whether to draw his attention or keep it from him. Some things, Hermione understood, were best kept to oneself. Sometimes, to protect the ones you love, you must harbor the pain and make it your own.

She gulped and stood. "You have a plan, right?" she asked him, all emotion gone from her face. He caught the change but didn't question it. "To get into the jail?"

He smiled brightly and turned to Ron. Before anyone could even question the creepy, looming smile, Draco's fist went flying the distance between them and struck Ron's jaw at full force. A red blur came crashing back onto the ground. "What the fuck was that about?" called Harry.

"Did Ginny tell you what happened at the Yule Ball? Huh?" Draco purred, his hands folded calmly behind his back. His smirk was obvious to Hermione and Ginny. It wasn't to the boys. "Did she tell you how she fucked Neville under the Quidditch bleachers?"

"Draco!" Ginny yelled, more disappointed than offended. It obviously wasn't true.

Too late. Harry was already two different shades of red and swinging at anything tall, blond, and smug. Draco landed close enough for Ron to keep him down. They rolled out into the middle of the plaza. Ron got a few lucky punches into the ribs Draco had broken over the summer. Hermione, knowing every scrape and bruise on his chest, winced and reluctantly turned to Ginny so she wouldn't have to see Harry join in.

"Ready?" she asked, watching three policemen come running down the market. Ginny nodded, closed her eyes and turned a cheek. Hermione punched, hard, and before she knew it, cuffs were being wrapped around her wrists and all five of them were being dragged into the steely cells of Wiltshire Prison.

-----

"Well I hope you're happy," snarled Ron to Draco from inside his cell.

The jail wasn't that large since the town rarely had to deal with any real trouble so they split them up into the two cells. Ginny and Hermione in one. The boys in the other, facing theirs. Everything was dead silent. Hermione sat against the bars so she could be closer to the others and talk while Ginny took a quick nap on the benches. Her concussion hadn't let her sleep for some time and she just really needed to rest.

"Quite happy," answered Draco arrogantly. "I've wanted to punch you, Potter, for some time. I'd already attacked Weasley so there was no sport there."

"Then why punch me first?" whined Ron.

Draco shrugged. "Well, you've got the temper of a fire ant. If you want to start a fight, go for the crazy, irrational one first and watch the others defend him. Where's your sense of sport?"

Hermione and Harry laughed a little. "Oh come on," added Hermione. "You had to know he was just trying to get us arrested. They have a zero tolerance law on fighting in public places."

Ron shot her a murderous look. "Did it bloody well look like I knew?"

"I told you. You should have read the mission statement," muttered Ginny, her arm over her eyes to shield her from the bright sunlight. Each cell had one window. There were four large cells total but the first two were already occupied by a few thieves and a couple of girls that looked like rejects of Club Daemos.

"Oh shut up, Gin!"

The others snickered quietly. "We've hit a small predicament though," said Draco with minimal worry in his tone. Hermione had no idea how he did that, how he could find himself trapped in a jail cell with his worst enemies and not feel a tinge of worry. This wasn't the Draco of yore, the one who ran from the Forbidden Forest in first year or the one who cried out like a little girl because Buckbeak scratched his arm in third. Despite herself, she flashed him a wider smile.

"How small a predicament?" asked Harry.

Hermione already knew the problem and she _had_ begun to worry. "They took our wands. We can't break free. And, having seen our wands, they're probably calling in the Veelas as we speak."

"Veelas," said Ron with a silly grin on his face. "Gosh, they're gorgeous."

Disregarding Ron entirely, Harry turned his attention to Ginny who was still resting on the seemingly uncomfortable wooden bench. "How's she doing?" he asked Hermione.

She went to respond but Ginny cut her off. "I'm fine, Harry. Relax. How do we bust out and where's the entrance to the tunnels?"

Nobody said anything, waiting for Draco to respond. When he didn't, Ginny moved her arm and peaked into the other cell. All three boys were frozen, staring at a sliver of light coming from the entrance. "Oh great. They're heeeere."

Three absolutely stunning women with long, flowing blonde hair and striking gray eyes practically glided into the prison, heading straight for them. Draco was not so impressed by the Veelas. After all, the image of Hermione smiling next to him in bed was burned into the inside of his eyelids. Even when Lulu had kissed him, all he could think about was the way Hermione's hair might feel through his fingers as he cupped the back of her head to bring her deeper into a kiss.

He had fantasized so many times, so many different ways to kiss her, to hold her and make love to her. Even back at the Burrow when she was still just a filthy Mudblood and he was her unwilling prisoner, he had thought about how he'd thank her one day.

"This one's soul jumps," said the tallest of the women, presumably the leader. She reached through the bars where Draco stood and caressed his face sweetly. "He has not yet decided whether he loves or lusts."

Ron hurried beside him like a dog waiting for scraps. Harry took his time approaching them though everyone could see he wasn't the blinking. Another Veela turned towards him as though fascinated. "This one does not lust at all. He loves."

The third just smiled wildly at Ron. "This one is nobler than he pretends to be. He sacrifices, knowing what are not his to covet yet covets nonetheless."

Hermione cleared her throat loudly and all three Veelas turned their torsos towards her, their hair sweeping elegantly around them. "Uh… The dark haired one is in love. With this one." She nodded back to Ginny who had sat up on the bench, curiosity in her eyes. She waved at the Veela. "The blond one does love. He's just a horny bastard. _He belongs to me._ And the ginger one you can keep. You'd probably be doing him a favor."

Ron smiled wider, goofier, and nodded. The shortest Veela turned her full attention to Hermione. Her eyes were darker than the others, like an overcast sky. "You think he loves you, little one?"

Hermione smirked confidently.

"And yet you do not allow him to touch you. The need is written all over the poor boy's face. You are a cruel, cruel woman." All three of the boys agreed, still transfixed on the Veelas' powerful, knowing beauty. Ginny muttered something under her breath.

"Why are you here, little ones?" asked the tall Veela.

Draco went to answer, still staring as through in a daze, but Hermione quickly commanded him to stop. The tall one continued to examine Draco's face, running her long, thin fingers gently over his cheek bones. Endlessly amused, she tilted her head to the side.

"This one is Malfoy," she said. "I can smell it."

"The people of the Manor?"

The last heir, I would assume. Good blood. Old blood. Silver blood. He would make an excellent breeding mate."

Draco seemed to blink twice, trying to snap out of the trance. "No," he lied. "I'm not."

He wanted to fight it, making Ron beg more to be chosen with large puppy dog eyes. He didn't dare speak. The Veelas had not granted him permission, and he would continue to be ignored.

"Of course he's a Malfoy," the tall one said. "I bet I can taste it, that silver blood."

Before Draco could do or say a thing to stop it, the Veela opened the door to the cell as easily as if it had been unlocked and glided upon him. He retreated, his large gray eyes locked on hers, but found himself trapped against the brick walls of the prison. The Veela leaned down and revealed her long, pale tongue, like a serpent's. She lifted Draco's chin upwards and leaned down further to kiss him. Her long tongue entered his mouth and he jumped, struggling to escape.

Hermione clutched the bars of the jail, caught between concern and jealousy. The helplessness was getting to her. She was trapped behind bars while Draco was being attacked by a beautiful woman, caught between a goddess and a demon. He seemed to slide down the wall further, his arms and shoulders jerking.

A growl escaped Hermione. It was not a human growl. It was feral, coming from deep within her chest. Suddenly, the bars snapped within her fists. A spasm elongated her spine and hair began to grow all over her body. The growling continued, stronger as the Veelas continued to ignore her. The pain began. She was changing.

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_Glad you're liking the speedy updates! I hope we can break the Quarter Moon Gamble's record for reviews. This story may go into the 30-something chapters. It might not. We'll see! If we can surpass 400 reviews, I'll continue it into the later years, post-Hogwarts. I hate people who do the whole I-won't-post-till-I-hit-x-number-of-reviews but if there's not that big of an interest in me continuing it past Hogwarts, I won't. I might just kill one of them off. Don't worry though. We're only half-way through the story. No end yet. _

**Reviews are better than standing up for your guy.**


	16. Welcome to the Malfoys

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN:** _Welcome to the Malfoys'_

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_I love you guys. I seriously do. Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews. I would have posted earlier but Earth Hour hit and I had to wait. Who else participated? Who knows what it is? Lol. _

_Enjoy the chapter!_

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"Hermione, no!" yelled Ginny, going to wrap her arms around her as if that could stop Hermione from exploding out of her clothes. Hermione flinched and Ginny was sent flying back against the jail wall. She groaned. "Not again!"

Hermione tore apart the cell bars as though they were made of aluminum foil and, from it, emerged a monster to be reckoned with. Ron, ruled most by his fear of werewolves, was the first to snap out of the Veelas' trance. He pulled Harry back against the wall and let Hermione do as her jealousy deemed. They'd learned years ago not to stand in the way of a monster doing their bidding.

Her large claws grabbed at the Veela's shoulders and pulled back towards the wall, landing her next to the boys, unconscious. They tried to avoid the blood spewing from her arms long enough to realize that Hermione would not be in her right mind. She would not have taken the potion. She would not be able to stop.

Harry whipped out his wand and called the same binding spell Ginny had used on the Death Eaters before. He missed but there was no need. Hermione had knelt just as the spell flew above her head. She was calm, breathing slow and steady and the hair was already starting to recede. Draco had locked eyes with her, unashamed and even a little… proud?

He reached up and caressed her face just as the wolf's hold left her completely. Hermione collapsed beside him, her limp body tiny compared to the wolf that had just rampaged through both cells. There was a roar of screams from outside. The other prisoners had seen.

Draco took off his robe and wrapped Hermione up. He ran up to the empty front desk where the wands were being held in a tray. Then, he did something that left them utterly speechless.

Draco gave Ron his wand, without a second thought or concern. Even Harry stopped, staring speechless at the beautiful piece of magic in Ron's sweaty hands. "What's this for?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's a wand. You move it, say a few words, and funny things happen."

"But why are you giving it to me?"

"Potter's got one and I can't very well use it with her in my arms," he answered, shifting Hermione slightly so his arm wouldn't go numb. "Use it to silence the other prisoners while I go find the entrance to the tunnels."

They nodded in agreement as Harry went to tend to Ginny in the other cell. She was well enough and more worried about the blood leaking from Draco's mouth than her own. The other Veelas had run off somewhere, probably calling for reinforcements. "We need to hurry!"

"This way," said Draco, looking to the wall at the far end of the cell block. Draco passed Hermione to Ron quickly and smeared the blood from his lips with his hand onto the wall. "A Malfoy orders you open."

The wall parted brick by brick, just like Diagon Alley, and soon, Hermione was back in his arms. The others followed him, their wands alight, all the way down to the end of the tall, thin tunnel in the earth. It seemed to go down, deep into the ground, then up again through a long staircase.

"Don't you people know how to dig in a straight line?" asked Harry, his arms around Ginny as if acting like her personal coat.

Draco laughed but it came out forced and more blood spilled from his mouth. "Malfoy, give her to me," asked Ron in a surprisingly gentle tone. "You're not well."

"She's always taking care of me," he answered hoarsely, leading them up the stairs. "I did this to her, so I'm taking care of her. Period. No further discussion."

Harry and Ginny shared a look of concern but continued on after him.

They reached a large door made out of a shiny, black material like obsidian or marble. It was frozen shut along the edges and the Malfoy seal was burnt into the center. There was no doorknob, only a handprint melted into the center of the seal.

"How do we—" began Ron but Draco instantly shushed him. He passed Hermione to him once more and fit his hand into the seal. The obsidian seemed to melt at his touch, revealing a doorknob and a crease down the middle of the door. He pulled the knob and one half of the door pulled open.

"Hurry!" he hissed, taking Hermione back and rushing her through a ballroom full of mirrors into a room with a large, green canopy bed. Before he did anything, before he said a word, Draco set her down gently and covered her up with the silky sheets. He turned back to the door and shut it behind him, all five locks. "This is a safe room. It's where my father hides me when the Ministry raids. If my mother's entourage has arrived yet, they won't be able to see the door."

Everyone in the room relaxed. Draco did too, instantly sliding down the pole of the bed. He sat by Hermione's feet and stared at the floor with wide eyes. He gave a soft, scared chuckle. "Are you okay?" asked Ginny, going to sit at the table by the stained glass window. "We should—"

"Hermione can heal me when she wakes up!" he interrupted sternly. "Let her rest!"

"Let who rest?" mumbled Hermione, her eyes still closed. She reached an arm up to Draco as if knowing in the back of her head that he was there. "I'm fine."

"Malfoy's not," said Ron and Hermione instantly sat up.

"Don't scare her," he whispered in retort, too tired to really complain. He fell onto his back and covered his eyes with his hands. "I'm—"

Hermione wrapped his coat around her tighter and crawled down the large bed to his side. Ron handed her her wands and she instantly began uttering healing spell after healing spell. "Draco!" she finally called, shaking his shoulders. "Wake up, you silly goof!"

"I'm awake!" he shouted hoarsely, still unable to stand up. "Just give me a minute! I can still taste the stupid wench down my throat."

The others grimaced but Hermione just sighed in relief and sat down so he could rest his head on her lap. "Hermione," said Ron. "That was… uh, you really…"

"You kicked ass," finished Ginny.

All three laughed awkwardly, like they were caught up in the middle of a hurricane and didn't know whether to smile or run away screaming. "So…" began Draco a few minutes later, a small smirk twiddling on the edges of his blood-stained lips. "I belong to you?"

"Oh shut up. I was trying to save you… it's what you do, for the people you love."

Draco shot up and twisted on the bed to face her. "What did you just say?" She shrugged coyly. He turned to the others with the same wide eyes. "She said it, right? I'm not crazy. She loves me. She said it!"

"I dunno," said Ginny. "That didn't sound like an I Love You to me."

Harry shook his head. "I think the intent was behind it."

Ron agreed. "You said it, 'Mione. No taking it back."

She raised a quick finger, wagging it like a disapproving McGonagall. "No no no… I said that's what YOU do for people YOU love. The word 'I' was never spoken."

"Who do you think I am? One of them? Like that's seriously going to fool me!" he spouted with a laugh, shooting his arms up in the air and heading towards the door. "I won't be taken advantage of, Hermione Granger!"

She beamed at him. "Where are you going?"

"To check if we're alone, of course!" he answered, still woozy of Veela tongue mixed with sudden bursts of joy. The smile went from Hermione's face and hurried to see with him. "No, stay. I know my way around. You'll only get lost."

"But Draco, what if Voldemort is here already?"

He winced a little, paused to think about it, and nodded at Ron. He threw the wand at Draco from across the room. Draco had to reach up to grab it but the wand seemed to be drawn to his hand. "I'll be back. Don't worry!" he said, not an ounce of worry in his voice. He leaned in to kiss her goodbye but opted for her cheek. He wouldn't be able to concentrate if all he thought about were her lips on his. "Just take that bloody potion and stay alive. I'll be back before you know it."

And with that, he left her standing there in his coat.

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"He's been gone a while, yes?" asked Hermione, sitting on the edge of the bed beside Ginny. She'd apologized too many times to count and was trying to fix up the crack in Ginny's skull.

"No," Ron answered for the fourth time, so monotone that Harry thought he was going to fall asleep from listening to him. "It's been minutes and the house is freakin' huge. Let it rest, Hermione."

"Agh, I need something to tie this bandage off with," she spoke to no one in particular and started rummaging through Draco's coat pockets for… well, she didn't really know what she would find there. It was an instinct to search one's pockets. That's when she felt something small and square and remembered that his pockets were probably enchanted to be bigger on the inside than the outside.

"'Mione?" asked Ginny after a minute had passed and Hermione's leg had stopped anxiously jumping up and down. "You okay there?"

"Uh huh," she answered to the floor, taking out the box and setting it on her lap. It was perfectly square and about the height of a book all around. It was wrapped paper, just as she'd seen, but she couldn't find anything ominous about it. It seemed too benign to have come from such a dark place.

Ron hurried up off the chair by the table and sat between her and Ginny. "Whoa, what's that?"

"You think it's an engagement ring?" said a very shocked Harry from the other side of the room. Ginny shot him a cross look. "That's what you usually find in boyfriends' pockets, right? Engagement rings?"

"He's not my boyfriend, Harry," said Hermione, her voice distant as if she were concentrating on seeing right through the paper wrapping to the surprise in the center. "And he got it from Knockturn Alley. I'm pretty sure they don't make engagement rings there and if they do, I really don't want one that might cut my finger off and feed it to the Dark Lord."

Ginny laughed awkwardly, her tone laden with fear. "It's got to be a dark object then, right?"

"Not necessarily."

"But most likely."

"Yes, probably."

Hermione growled and they all backed off, leaving her alone in the bed. It hadn't been a real growl but they'd learned to jump out of the way and she'd always use that to her advantage. "I'm going to open it," she said definitively.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" came a smooth voice from the doorway.

Everyone shouted a mixture of Dracos and Malfoys and a single Drakey from Ron who seemed to want to be punched in the face.

"Was she worried about me?" Everyone nodded. "That's kind of sweet in a silly sort of way. Do you know how many secret hallways are in this place? Not even the Dark Lord could find his way around here without a Malfoy to show him."

"Stop showing off. Are we alone?"

He nodded. "Yup. Though the house elves have been alerted that my mother and her three 'escorts' will be arriving tonight and to prepare for a ball."

"A ball? She's not a prisoner?"

He shook his head and extended an arm out for Hermione to follow him. She set the box on the bed by Ginny's thigh and stood. "It could only mean she's bargained to keep her status as a Malfoy and use her influence to bring others in. She's still a prisoner but this is no ordinary ball. Voldemort's recruiting. You can be sure of it."

Hermione took his hand and continued for him, "Then her escorts are here to keep her in check. The ball's our chance. The entrance to the tunnels is in the ballroom. We just create a distraction and sneak your mother out."

They opened the doors and Draco led them through the manor towards the left wing, the safest by far. It was too far away, hidden through swerving hallways and hidden entrances. To turn into it, you had to know it was there. One had to enter through an archway with a mural of a scene in the forest. You had to tap twice and the mural would disappear and you could walk straight into the painting, through the forest, to the other side of the hallway.

"This is ridiculous," muttered Ron.

"This is top-notch security," countered Ginny.

Ron shook his head. "I'm never complaining to my parents for a bigger house ever again."

Harry said nothing. He'd learned to accept everything as normal after a giant came to pick him up for school when he was 11. The only one who could still surprise him was Ginny. He'd decided that she'd be his last adventure. Draco had come to a similar conclusion about Hermione. That was the great thing about a new romance. It felt like it could last forever.

Everyone got their own room. There were apparently 10 guest rooms, five in the left wing and five in the right wing. There were six rooms for the family to live in and various other rooms around. Narcissa had a sewing room. There was a music room, the ballroom, an indoor tennis court, three acres of garden…

Hermione thought it was sickeningly excessive. She felt very small and very out of place. She couldn't imagine living in this house, having to walk five minutes to find a bathroom every morning or having to order around elves everywhere because there was no way she'd be cleaning this house alone.

After Draco showed them to the rooms they could change in for the ball, he and Hermione drifted off back to the center of the house. She knew they were leaving the left wing but she didn't say anything. He had such a childlike smile, a literal skip in his step as he pulled her quickly through the house towards a silver door.

"Draco, where are you taking me?"

"My room," he answered with a strange glint in his eye. "I plan to take advantage of you."

She pulled her arm away. "You better be kidding, Draco Malfoy."

"I love it when you say my name like that. Anger and disapproval suit you."

He pushed in the door, only it was obviously not his room because it in no way matched his descriptions to her. There was no Quidditch memorabilia anywhere, which she knew he kept even back at Hogwarts, and no posters of the Weird Sisters. The floor was hardwood, not marble, and the furniture was a pale wood color, not dark. The linens were white and yellow, obviously intended for a girl.

"My room?" she said in a low voice, still holding his large coat together over her bare skin. He nodded and led her to the bed where a short, navy blue dress awaited her. "For me?"

He picked it up and nodded to the bathroom on the right of the bed. The bathroom alone was bigger than her room back home but she didn't say anything. "It was my mother's when she was younger. Enjoy."

She laughed. "I don't have anything to wear under this."

He leaned in and whispered, "I believe that's the idea."

He smacked her on the behind, pushing her towards the bathroom door and shutting it behind her. "This so isn't funny, Draco!" she shouted, slipping into the dress nonetheless. She picked up her hair in an elegant, loose bun as best she could and looked at herself in the mirror. It had two red beaded straps and made from a shiny material that looked firmer than it really was. It folded at the front like a fancy napkin and hugged her waist everywhere else. At the front was a large round pendant with hanging beads. She stared at herself for a good ten minutes and decided, "I don't look like me!"

He pulled open the door, dressed almost instantaneously in black and white dress robes. He'd sleeked his hair back but it was so long now that strands fell away over his eyes. She loved it like this, messy over proper.

"No," he whispered, the air kicked out of him. "This is different."

"Better different?"

He nodded, gaping like an idiot with his hands frozen on his top button. She sighed, deciding she really had nothing else to wear, and went by him in search of shoes. Matching heels were waiting for her by the foot of the bed. She stepped into them and turned back so Draco could see the finished product. She hadn't bothered with make-up. She didn't know how to work magical make-up charms. It's not like they had a class on it, not one she would take.

He was leaning against the doorway of the bathroom, watching her. She smirked self-consciously and spun for him. "Well?"

He dropped the button he'd spent two minutes on and glided across the room towards her. He took her waist with one arm, digging her hip bones into his upper thigh. She gasped as though surprised but something in the back of her head told her this was coming, that it was natural and right and he was about to kiss her. She held her breath, staring at his lips and the way his nostrils flared when aroused. She'd never had this effect on someone, not even Krum who – as everyone knew – was mostly physical.

"Draco," she breathed, running her hands up his arms over his silky robes. She reached his hair and smoothed the loose strands back, all the while his eyes focused on her face as if fighting with himself to stay back and respect her previous wishes. "It's okay. I won't stop you."

He gulped and ran his left hand up her back, bringing her chest to his. His touch was electric, sending shivers up her spine where fingers touched just above the rim of her dress. A soft growl escaped him and he leaned closer and closer, hovering over her lips. Their hearts were going wild, so fast that she thought she was going to pass out.

He went to say her name when another voice entered her head. She didn't hear what it said, too caught up in the pheromone dance occurring between them. Then, a hoarse clearing of the throat brought her back to reality.

They were not alone.

Before she could turn around to see who it was, Draco dropped his hands and backed away as though her skin were made of fire. Hermione turned then, her rapid heartbeat spreading fear far too quickly through her blood.

There, in the doorway, stood a creature too blonde and too beautiful to be human. She, unlike the Veelas of this morning, had obviously aged but aged well. Her eyes were a brilliant blue and her frown made Hermione's speeding heart go rolling off into her stomach.

"He—Hello?" she whispered, needing to break the silence somehow.

The woman crossed her arms disapprovingly and answered, "What exactly do you think you're doing with my son?"

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_Ha! Fooled you again! At least they made it to Malfoy Manor and she sorta kinda said you-know-what. The trinket was brought up. Come on! I hit all the good points. No, getting out is not going to be as easy as it sounds and the kiss comes after they leave, so stay tuned!_

**And REVIEW! Why? Because reviews are better than watching Draco flare up with lust… in a tux. **


	17. First Attempt

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:** _First Attempt_

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_I hope this chapter doesn't get deleted. I was very careful with what words I used. If it does, I'll have to repost it elsewhere. It was kind of spur of the moment, not really meant to happen until two chapters ahead but it turned out somewhat poetic. RATED M! Don't read past "Don't move" if you're uncomfortable with nudity. It's a longer chapter for that reason._

_And, you're welcome. You'll know why when you get there._

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"Oh Mother, please," defied Draco now that his heart had calmed from the shock of seeing her again. "You've walked in on me and girls before. This is nothing."

Narcissa took two steps inside the room and shut the door swiftly behind her. "You weren't… _infected_ before," she hissed, ignoring Hermione completely. The poor girl's blood was rushing to her feet, readying her to run.

"Yes well…" Draco began, seemingly out of arguments. "You're a little late. She's 'infected' too."

Hermione could tell his obvious distaste for the word. Narcissa's glowering blue eyes turned to her and she involuntarily took a step back, nearly falling back onto the bed in those damn blue heels. "Is that my dress?"

"I'm s-s-sorry," she stuttered. "Uh, I didn't have any clothes and Draco thought—"

He laughed and wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her, bringing her side to his protectively. Hermione did somewhat feel like she was standing in front of a loaded canon. "She doesn't care about the dress, 'Mione. Relax. Mother, this is Hermione Granger."

A smile curled at Narcissa's lips and Hermione almost thought she was off the hook. Then, the woman started laughing and she knew there was still a whole other load about to spring forth at her.

"This is Hermione Granger? The Mudblood who beat you in every class you ever took together, who you used to curse in your sleep and joke with your father about?"

Yup. Second load deployed. And the famous Malfoy sneer! Draco really had no chance. Both his parents were cruel, cruel beings. Hermione gulped and wished he would let go of her right then and there so she could run _very_ far away _very_ quickly, but he just tightened his grip on her waist as if predicting her train of thought.

"Yes, Mother. I'm a bit tired of my father's puritanical ranting. Aren't you?"

This time, she did smile and genuinely so. It was small but Hermione would take anything. The smile grew wider, more sinister. "Oh yes," Narcissa said, a light bulb going on in her dark mind. "Your father will absolutely _hate_ this."

"Uhm," Hermione interjected, not quite sure how she felt about being used as a retaliation tactic. "No offense, ma'am, but are you okay? We came here to rescue you but you seem to be fine."

Narcissa sobered. "I can take care of myself, Ms. Granger."

"Please. Call me Hermione. And no, I mean… we know you came with guards and we've come to steal you away from them, hide you."

Narcissa raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "Draco, what sort of silly thoughts have these Gryffindors been putting in your head? You know very well that if one of us is captured, the other must escape and save themselves. It's the Malfoy code and you know it."

Hermione looked down at the floor and muttered to herself, "Brave ones you Malfoy, aye?"

Draco, with his superior hearing, snorted. "Yes, Mother. But think about it. I've been in contact with the Order. Hermione found me after Spain. She saved me. Imagine if you could hide among them, under Dumbledore's protection. Forget Harry Potter! When the _Order_ brings down the Dark Lord, is it not on the Malfoy code that we must stand behind the winning side, no matter what that side might be?"

She paused to think about it and nodded, despite her worries. Draco knew how to spin a tale, Hermione knew. The Order was nowhere as strong as he made them seem but it was true that they could hide her.

"Did they hurt you?" Hermione finally asked, concern in her voice.

Narcissa looked down, her expression unreadable, and turned around. "I'll do what you want, Draco. Just promise me you'll get out. No matter what, get out of here and find sanctuary. Don't go near the ballroom until tonight. They're watching the entrances."

She straightened up and walked back out of the room slowly, dignity in her every step. Draco turned to Hermione with a large smile and said, "I think she likes you!"

Hermione tried not to gag. "You're insane! I thought she was going to kill me with a flick of her wrist."

He laughed and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. With a kind smile, he gestured towards the wall next to the bed. "Come on. Shortcut."

He pushed in the wall, revealing a new tunnel. "This is ridiculous, you know that right?"

"Crazy, insane, ridiculous… I'm getting the theme here. Secret passages come with the family name, ok? Get used to it. Hogwarts still has us beat. That place has rooms that _disappear_. Now hurry up, love. This leads right into the left wing."

She sighed and tore off her blasted shoes. The tunnel floor was wooden like her room or else she would never think to do so. Another door led them onto the hallway of the isolated left wing where Ron was admiring himself in the full-length mirror outside his room. He had never had a set of his own robes so he didn't care if the Dark Lord himself was knocking at the door. He was going to enjoy this.

Hermione tore from Draco – after a small wolf whistle from Ron – and went to check on Ginny and Harry. She didn't think twice of leaving Ron and Draco alone or the sort of things they'd talk about, about the twisted sense Ron could make when he put his mind to it.

Ginny was putting on the straps to a bright green dress while Harry slept on her bed, curled up comfortably.

"How can he possibly sleep at a time like this?" Hermione whispered, helping Ginny smooth out her hair by the vanity table. This room had been decorated in a strange variation of pale ginger and cream, which did not fit Ginny at all. Ginny was always a burning flame in Hermione's mind, a force to be reckoned with. It took some getting used to but Ginny had become more than a little sister. She had become a confidant.

"He's tired, Hermione. And, he somehow feels safe here."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, trying to mimic Mrs. Malfoy's intense stare in the mirror but failing miserably. "Safe? Narcissa's here with her guards. This house is going to be filled with Death Eaters in a few hours. How can he possibly feel safe?"

Ginny smiled, playing with her fingers on her lap. "He has us. He's been alone a long time, Hermione. I think now that he has me to… _show him_ how not alone he is, well, he's been knocking out around a lot. The poor sod. He thinks he's actually won something with me, like I'm some sort of prize."

"I don't understand."

Ginny's voice seemed to become softer, distant. "He never had to _win_ me. He always had me. There was never anyone else."

Hermione caressed Ginny's hair, smiling at her in the mirror. "Thank you," she said. "For giving me someone less to worry about. With Draco and this whole werewolf thing… It's nice to know you two have sort of completed each other."

"How's Draco, by the way?" Ginny changed the subject expertly. She didn't want to tell Hermione she was having trouble, that Harry was having dreams and visions and she worried day in and day out that he would be lost to her in mind, not body. No, she'd rather talk about the simple things like two girlfriends after school. She wished desperately for some ice cream, two very large spoons, and a Patrick Swayze movie.

"Still a horny bastard. Except now he's turning me into one too."

"You want him, don't you?"

"Like a dog wants a treat, Gin."

Harry laughed from the bed but his eyes remained closed. Hermione and Ginny turned to him, having forgotten he was there. "Good for you, 'Mione."

She scoffed. "Says Mr. Loves-but-does-not-lust!"

Ginny narrowed her eyes into slits and glared at Harry. "I'm still not sure if that's a good thing or not. I had no idea you found me so horribly unattractive."

Harry didn't even flinch. "Uh huh," he mumbled into his pillow, curling up a bit more. Having realized what he'd said, he sat up quickly and faced the girls with large, apologetic eyes. "Sorry, Gin. That's not—That's not it and you know it."

She smiled, though Hermione wasn't sure why. There was something there she wasn't privy to and she was glad because she was quite sure that if she knew, she'd blush horribly for hours. Something told her it was easy not to lust for something you've already had.

"Narcissa's here?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. "Why are they early?"

Hermione got the hint. They had to get serious if they were ever going to get out of that maze. "We were in the jail for three hours, Harry. It's after noon. If you're going to prepare a party, now is a good time to start. We have a problem though. We're safe here in the left wing but if we're going to infiltrate that ball, we're going to need disguises."

Harry nodded and rifled through his old clothes for those vials of Polyjuice. "We have plenty of potion but we don't have a lot of hair samples. We have whatever the two Death Eaters looked like but Draco shouldn't go as himself, right? Nor should you and Ginny."

"They won't recognize me, Ron, or Ginny. It's you and Draco we have to worry about."

"I agree," said Ginny. "Harry is the most recognizable wizard in England, in the world, next to Dumbledore of course."

"It's funny you didn't say Voldemort."

Ginny shrugged. "No one but you has seen him in a decade. You're in the newspapers every week ever since you came to Hogwarts, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Flippin' great," he grumbled and got out of bed. He tossed one of the vials at Hermione. "So it's a deal. Give that to Master Malfoy and give Ginny and I an hour or two."

"What?" asked Hermione, bringing the vial to her chest like it needed her warmth to be safe.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" answered Gin, standing up from the vanity table with a healthy red spread across her cheeks.

Hermione spun on her heel and ran looking for Draco, Ron… anyone not about to feel up the Boy Who Lived! She rounded the corner and realized she was lost down a yellowing hallway. She hadn't gone back into the center of the house. That had white walls everywhere and the doors and arches were a distinct style. This place was lost to the world.

It looked like it had not been cleaned in a decade and she could see particles of old paper flying through the air like white butterflies trailing sunbeams. The hallway was not too long – long enough to house a dozen doors – and its only source of light seemed to be a large stained glass window at the very far end. A single door was open. She followed the butterflies of paper and realized they weren't torn pieces. The edges were burnt and yellowed like the rest of the hallway.

She rounded the wall and peaked into the open door, expecting to see Draco there in the rocking chair. She blinked twice and the illusion was gone but she knew this place was bewitched. Something had happened here that the family had tried to forget.

"Hermione?" called Draco from the hallway.

She spun around and ran to find him. He was standing very out of place in the center of the hallway. She ran up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Oh thank God! I got lost. How'd you find me?"

He smiled but something was wrong. It was a sad smile like he was saying goodbye. "I can always find you. No matter where you are." He pulled out the box from the chest pocket of his robes and held it between them. "Go on. Open it."

She unwrapped it cautiously. Inside the box was a pale blue orb with a white mist trapped inside, swirling towards her like iron bits to a magnet. "An Orb of St. Anthony? It recovers lost things, yes?"

He nodded, not surprised in the least that she knew exactly what it was. "They're very rare. That's why I had to go to Knockturn Alley to get it. It guides me to thing I want most, to things I cannot live without. It's how I knew you were in the coffee shop this morning or here now. I'm thinking of transfiguring it into—"

Before he could finish his sentence, she checked around to make sure they were really alone and ran her hand through his hair. What caught him by surprise was the look on her face. The potion was fading slowly but he didn't care. He was in complete control. His talk with Ron had confirmed many things he already knew of her but worse, showed him how fragile what they had really was. One false move, one broken heart, and he'd lose her forever.

She didn't care. She lifted herself up onto her tiptoes and went to kiss him without a single regret. He pushed her back, his face unyielding. He couldn't ruin it now. He couldn't complicate things.

"Draco?" she asked, looking up at him with big hazel eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Come on, we should head back." Fire rose up her cheeks. After all this time, they were finally alone and he dared deny her? "Hermione, don't look at me like that. This is our boundary line."

He took a step back, signaling the space between them. She huffed angrily past him towards the other end of the hallway, knocking purposefully into his elbow. He chased after her, trying not to seem desperate. She needed to be angry at him. She needed to stay away from him long enough to clear her mind of the potion.

"Hermione, where are you going?" he called after her. She turned a corner into the central wing and he panicked. He ran and found her about to round another corner, about to collide with two shadows heading her way.

He hissed her name and pulled her arm into the nearest room. It happened to be his father's study, a long room with nothing but a simple mahogany desk at the end facing a large arching window. The curtains were drawn so only a sliver of light managed to enter.

She realized why he'd pulled her away and tried to see the situation from his point of view. Why wouldn't he kiss her? What could have been done or said to change him so quickly? She pondered it on the way to the desk, thinking about pulling open the curtains. She didn't realize he'd followed her to the window desk.

She turned around and there he was, perfect in shadow. He belonged to the darkness as much as he belonged to her. The sliver of light rested across the marble floor between them, a boundary line.

"Don't move," he whispered though she couldn't see his lips move through the shadows. His body was tense and light from the arched window was reflecting off his silver hair. He looked like an angel cast off from heaven. She remembered to breathe but it felt like too much damage had been done to her brain because all she could think about was slipping her hands slowly down his trousers.

She extended a hand out for him, begging with her eyes. "Come to me."

He gasped silently and took three slow steps towards the desk. "I need you to stop me," he warned her. There was pain in his voice as though he were fighting with himself to stand still. She tried to reach for his hand but found it clenched into a tight fist. Unable to hold his hand and calm him, she gently slid her delicate fingers up his arm towards his face.

"Déjà vu."

She smiled sweetly and leaned into him, brushing her lips on his salty cheek. She tried to pretend she wasn't shaking with fear but it was obvious. She thanked God for the glorious darkness that filled the room but he could still feel her trembling lips on his skin.

"Did you lock the door?" she asked, trying to sound sultry but failing miserably. She could never really be one of those seductresses who could whisper his name and he'd come on the spot. She had no idea what she was doing but nobody was interrupting her today. She was getting all of him, finally getting these desires out of her system before they both exploded.

"Hermione…" he began to complain but she quickly shook her head. She wanted what Ginny and Harry had. She wanted to stop lusting, stop wondering. She needed release or else she wasn't going to be able to concentrate tonight. She wasn't going to be able to help his mother or the others.

"Don't you dare. You are not backing out. You're not telling me it's not what I want or that we shouldn't," she said, begging with more than her eyes. "I love you, you stupid bastard. And you are not leaving this room until you screw me senseless. Understood?"

A moment of silence was followed by a soft laughter and Hermione's heart shriveled up a little. A thousand insecurities flew through her head at lightning speed as she tried to think of any moment over the last four months where she might have misunderstood his advances.

There were none. He loved her. He wanted her. She was sure. So sure that her lips stopped trembling and morphed into a pout. She awaited an explanation, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Only you could make a statement like that sound _adorably_ tame."

She scoffed. "What would you have me say then? Instruct me, oh mighty seducer."

He took another large, confident step and pushed the back of her thighs against the desk edge. With minimal effort, he picked her up by the waist and sat her down on the table. She gave a small gasp of surprise but it just fueled his fire. He reached up and brushed her hair back off her face. She wanted her eyes on his, wanted her to see there were no regrets.

"Well… the usual invitation is 'Fuck me,' but seeing as it's you, you could have stopped talking after 'I love you.'"

She laughed as he ripped the side of her dress and spread her legs apart. He settled his hips, fully clothed, between her legs so there'd be no confusion as to whether or not he wanted her. There was no space between them.

"I love you," she whispered, leaning in for the kiss.

He lingered over her lips, smiling wildly. He drew in a little closer and pulled back, teasing her. She growled and cupped the back of his head, smashing her lips to his with a strangely invigorating rush of adrenaline.

Then, she wasn't breathing. She wouldn't breathe for hours. She was gasping.

His lips were fuller than she expected, much more forceful. They were making her heart falter painfully in her chest. She parted her lips, welcoming the kiss further. His tongue found hers and fought for dominance. The kiss spread out from her lips to her cheek to her jaw. She continued to gasp out, throwing her head back to grant him full access to her exposed skin. She leaned back onto her hands when she heard another large ripping sound and felt the cool air reach her ribs.

"I liked this dress," she whispered.

"I'll buy you another one," he mumbled into her chest, going to run his tongue across her left clavicle. "I'll buy you a hundred."

As she was unable to move, he undid his own buttons all the while his mouth trailed down her abdomen. Licking. Biting. Sucking. Her mind was – for the first time in her life, mind you – completely blank. All she could focus on was the feel of him tasting her and the heaviness in her chest which she could only describe as _heavy_ arousal.

His left hand reached up to knead her breast and her gasps turned into a long, low whine. She'd shut her eyes should her mind start up again so every move he made seemed sudden and delicious. His right hand ripped the final straps of dress and threw them on the floor. He trailed her spine with his pianist fingers and brought her back to him, bare chest to bare chest.

He wanted her sitting, wanted to see her face when his hands moved down to the inside of her thighs. He was right. Her eyes shot open and every muscle in her body flinched. "If your body matches what your eyes can do, I might be the one in trouble," he whispered into the base of her neck just as his fingers teased and penetrated her.

"Oh God," she screamed, already falling for his charms. "Oh God! I am _never_ wearing underwear again!"

He laughed and leaned her down atop the remains of her dress so he could slide her into him with less friction on her back. Few men thought about the details as much as he did, about how to make her comfortable and make the most out of every stroke and every thrust.

So, he paused before entering her. She was so close to the fall that if he went too quickly, she'd go without him. He wondered if he should be selfish and enter her slowly but then, he remembered this was her first time. There no choice. He had to go slow. He had to delay her satisfaction.

She noticed his pause and propped herself up onto her elbows. "Draco? Baby?"

His hair fell over his eyes and his hands were rested on the insides of her thigh indecisively. "I'm afraid I'll hurt you."

She smiled, unsure of how to reassure him. If they were back at Hogwarts, she would have run her hands through his hair and whispered something sweet and soothing, maybe rest his head on her lap. But this was different. They were both completely utterly exposed. She stopped focusing on his hidden eyes and looked down, taking in the jagged curves of his body and the bulges of muscle all down his arms and thighs.

Then, her eyes met the rest of him and her eyes widened wider. _That_ was supposed to go inside her? Now she understood why he was afraid of hurting her. She thought he was going to split her open!

She laughed nervously and sat up, bringing her back to him by wrapping her legs around his waist. "Look at me," she said, tilting his chin up so her eyes locked with his again and they could speak in that silent language they seemed to have. "Can we do this?"

He laughed. "Do you trust me?" he purred into her lips. And then his hands were on her again. She shook her head and closed her eyes, settling her forehead against his. He centered himself between her thighs again and, a moment later, she felt him enter her slowly. Her back arched and her nails dug into his arms.

"Wait!" she shouted before he could pull back and thrust into her. He waited until she nodded, her head buried into the crook of his neck. The pain was there, greater than the lust. She had never felt this fullness. She knew once he pulled away, it would be a new sensation followed by another new sensation and she was terrified.

"Hermione?" he asked. She still hadn't relaxed and a good two minutes had passed. "Sweetheart, are you here with me?"

"I don't know if I can…"

Slowly, before she even finished her sentence, he pulled back out. Their sensuous embrace turned into a comforting hug and they lingered there for a quiet moment as he stroked her hair against his chest. "Has the pain gone?" he asked.

"I'm so sorry, Dra—"

"Don't ever apologize. Not to me." His voice was light, filled with humor. "Sometimes, you have to taste before you bite down."

She laughed and slid down off the table. He towered over her like a Greek god. His arms became a cage around her, keeping her safe and delightfully warm.

"Let's go to bed," he offered, kissing her forehead. "We have a few hours before the ball. We might as well sleep it out."

He handed her his white shirt and dress robes since no amount of magic was going to put her dress back together again. And they snuck back out the hallway towards her room where they curled up in each other's arm, the only way they knew to sleep.

-----

_I couldn't have them just have miraculously wonderful sex the first time around. Let's be real, people! Besides, this guarantees a repeat, if Hermione ever recovers mentally. Be kind with your reviews. This is the first full scene I post but it became integral to the plot. Don't forget the Orb or the hidden hallway!_

**Reviews are better than losing your virginity to Draco Malfoy… on top of his father's desk.  
**(And you better review like fucking crazy.)


	18. Duplicity

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:** _Duplicity_

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Draco couldn't sleep for long. Though his mind was still, his heart was racing. Something was wrong but it wasn't him. He reached out for Hermione with his eyes closed but couldn't find her on the pillow. He awoke, startled, and found Hermione sitting naked next to him under the sheets, hugging her knees. She rested her chin on her folded arms atop her knees and stared out at the mirror above the vanity table.

"Hermione?" he called, the worry dripping off her name. He reached up with gentle fingers and touched her arm to get her attention. She flinched as though readying herself for a slap. "Hermione, are you okay?"

He propped himself up onto one elbow and pulled back his hand. He got the hint. She didn't want to be touched, not for a while.

"Are _we_ going to be okay?" she asked his reflection in the mirror.

He laughed, unsure if he should. "Of course, 'Mione!"

"I've been thinking."

He rolled his eyes. "Nothing good ever comes from that."

She wasn't smiling, wasn't kidding. He sat up further, trying to read her face. Her eyes were puffy like she'd been crying and his heart shriveled up to the size of a walnut.

"I like Lulu," she said, perfectly sure of her decision. "For you. I don't want to lose you but if we can't—I think you should keep Lu on the side, the way your dad has others on the side."

His jaw dropped slightly. "Hermione, are you telling me I should fuck Lu and come home to you? Is that your solution?"

She shrugged and replied in the smallest voice he'd ever heard, "You don't have to come back at all."

He didn't care if she flinched at his touch. He grabbed her arm and turned her towards him. "Hermione Granger, are you chucking me?"

Her face was an unreadable mask of pain. "I want you to be happy. I'll never be—"

He was shaking his empty head, shock rendering him useless. "You're impossible!" he shouted, jumping out of bed. He was entirely naked but her eyes were back to the mirror. "Hermione, look at me! You're not breaking up with me over this! For one, we're not even going out! It took us three months to get here! It took three months for you to tell me you loved me. What makes you think sex is going to be any different?"

"What?" Her bloodshot eyes flew to him.

"I got to have you last night, all of you. I don't know why you think I wasn't ecstatic. We have the rest of our lives to perfect the other insignificant little parts."

She gulped and feigned a smile. A quick nod later, he still wasn't convinced but he knew he wasn't going anywhere with her. He let her soak in her own doubt and went to get dressed. He needed to get her another dress for the ball. When he came back out of the bathroom, Hermione was rifling through his jacket, the sheets… anything flat, cavernous, or malleable where something might hide.

"What are you doing?" he asked, adjusting his tie in the mirror by the bathroom wall.

"Did I have a vial in my hands when I came back from your father's office?" Her eyes were wild, searching his tux pockets.

"What? No… why?" He was starting to get scared. Hermione wouldn't get like this over anything small. "Hermione, what was in the vial?"

"The Polyjuice!" she shouted, going to make a toga out of her sheets so she could check around better. "Harry gave it to me to give to you so you could get into the ball without being recognized!"

He let out a small string of profanities and stomped around like the floor was on fire.

"We have to go back to that hallway!" she shouted. "The abandoned one with the flying bits of paper and the old nursery! We have to go!"

He stopped stomping and laughed as thought she'd asked him to bite from the forbidden fruit. "That hallway… that hallway's lost, Hermione. You have to be lost to find it. It could take months in this place! Even with the Orb, we don't have time."

"I think Harry had used the last of the hair. We didn't take everything since we didn't think we'd need more. What are we going to do?"

He paced in front of the door. He stopped and turned to her, an idea flashing through his eyes. He grabbed her arm and pulled her through the secret tunnel into the left wing. They emerged in front of Ron's room and ran inside, not bothering to knock. Ron had been lying down in bed when they stormed in. He jumped off the bed, barefoot, holding his heart in place.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" he hissed. He paused and scanned Hermione from head to toe. His eyes narrowed and fists clenched. "What the hell did you do?"

Hermione didn't realize she was still in the toga. "We lost the vial of Polyjuice!" she said, desperation in her voice.

Ron let go of his heart and shot her a confused look. "What? No! Why are you wearing a bloody sheet and covered in sweat?"

She looked down and blushed madly, pulling her arm away from Draco's grasp. "Not this, you idiot!" growled Draco. He walked right up to Ron and put his head into a choke hold. He plucked out a handful of hair and hurried to Harry and Ginny's room. Ron screamed in pain but understood instantly what he was doing. They ran after him into the hallway, calling his name.

He burst into Harry and Ginny's just as brashly. Luckily, Ginny was going over the maps again on the floor. They looked around for Harry but all they saw was a burly man with golden locks in dress robes two sizes too small looking at himself in the mirror.

"Fuck!" shouted Draco, rummaging through the vials on the bed for an empty one. "You took the potion already?"

Ginny rose to her feet. "Well, yea. The ball's already started. We were waiting for you to come get us though it's obvious you were otherwise occupied."

Ron chuckled slightly behind them. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself to protect from the cold. The marble floor was icy beneath her bare feet. "Here," said Draco, handing Ginny the patch of hair. "Looks like I'll be Ronald for the evening."

"Who will I be?!" shouted Ron.

Draco spun around, annoyed as though the plan was so obvious. "You go into the party first with Hermione. Lockhart-wannabe here and Gin create a distraction while you disappear through the tunnel. I sneak in through the secret entrance and meet up with Hermione. We create a second distraction while Potter and Weasley take my mother into the tunnel."

Ron scoffed. "Create not one but two distractions? We're not magicians!"

Hermione stifled a giggle. "We kind of are, Ron."

"Any ideas?" asked Gin.

"Wing it!" said Hermione. "You and Harry head downstairs first. You need to be seen going in."

"There's a passage out into the gardens from here. Narcissa can greet us at the door," she answered, rolling up the maps.

"But how will she know you're with us? She's only seen Hermione."

Ron groaned and went to sit on the bed, ignoring the rumpled sheets completely. "You're making this so complicated!"

"We're Malfoys," sneered Draco. "We don't do quick and easy."

"No, you do confusing and pointless."

"You must admit it's great at disorienting your enemy."

Harry was about to bite someone's head off. By his new size, he looked like he could literally do it too. "And your allies!" he yelled.

"I've got it, Harry," assured Gin, going to stroke his arm. The smile was fake. They all knew it. But they trusted her when she said she knew what to do. "Don't worry."

"I'm going to need another dress," admitted Hermione, barely able to look at Draco in the face. The others noticed instantly and shared looks across the room.

"Right," answered Draco, staring blankly at her face. Another idea flashed through his eyes. "I think I know how my mother can recognize you. We'll be right back."

He went to grab Hermione arm again but she pulled away before he could. Everyone went silent and stared. She might as well have slapped him. They shared some sort of unspoken agreement and she followed him out the hall through another secret tunnel that led to a closet the size of the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione gasped. She'd never been the type to stare at pricey clothes with such desire. Usually, she could never have these things so she'd learned not to covet the unattainable. Draco had changed that in so many ways.

"Pick whatever you want," he told her, trying to hide the angst in his voice. His instincts were to hold her, kiss her, tell her everything would be okay… but she wouldn't let him do that. She wouldn't let him heal her.

"This one."

Hermione chose the first dress she saw, not an ounce of excitement in her voice. It was floor length and a peachy color with flowing pleats. It was much more elegant than the shreds they'd left in Lucius' office but it also covered more. He took it as a sign that she wanted him to stay away so he didn't look at her while she changed, as much as he wanted to see her again. She did her hair as quickly as possible without a wand – she had no idea where she'd left that thing and she wasn't going to go searching while they were in Defcon 9 – and slipped into the matching slippers.

Draco pocketed some boxes from the closet safe and went to leave but Hermione was stuck at the mirror, drowning in her own reflection. She looked sickly, pale white, about to vomit into his mother's favorite pair of blue Jimmy Floos.

"'Mione, you look like Crabbe and Goyle after an all-you-can-eat buffet."

Her lips quirked into a tiny smirk but she was still staring at herself. She suddenly looked up and her eyes beckoned him closer. She extended her hand and he took it graciously, careful not to squeeze too hard should she break like porcelain.

"God, they saw me in a freakin' sheet… I don't look any different, do I? Not really?"

He laughed, despite her serious face. "Of course you do! You look hot. Now come on! We gotta bring down the arms of an international evil organization bent on ruling the world… and taking hostage my mother."

He tried to gently tug her towards the tunnel door but she held her place, a more genuine smile blossoming on her tinted lips. "I meant it, you know. The 'I love you.' I meant it."

He sighed in defeat and came up behind her, rounding her waist and resting his chin on her bare shoulder. "Well I figure you didn't say it to get in my pants. God knows nobody wants _that_."

She ignored him. "And I do want to try again."

He smiled devilishly and slid his hands down her abdomen towards her inner thigh. She shivered, letting out another tiny gasp. He never grew tired of them.

"How about next time we try when there aren't Death Eaters on the other side of the door?" he joked, kissing her long neck. "Killer ninjas, sure. They have trouble getting through doors. But Death Eaters was just fucking dangerous – literally."

She reached up and ran her hands through his hair. She bent to kiss his forehead. "Okay… I feel better," she announced through a false smile. Draco didn't want to know what sort of things were going through her mind. He pulled her through the door back to Ginny's. The potion of red hair was waiting for him on the bed. It hadn't been ten minutes but Harry was anxious. They had to get through this thing in less than an hour or the potion would run out and they'd be back to their recognizable selves.

Draco groaned. With one hand firmly in Hermione's and another around the vial, he chucked down the potion. "Eww," he said. "Weasley-flavored barf."

Hermione patted his back as he gagged it down. Instantly, his hair started turning a gingery color and his eyes lightened to blue. He grew about half an inch and his sleek, pale skin became tanner, spotted with freckles. Hermione tried not to laugh but it was obvious she wasn't trying hard enough.

He scowled at her and warned, "Watch the giggles or I'll make you kiss me."

Ron came through the door behind her. "She didn't seem to mind it before," sneered Ron, crossing his arms and leaning against the entrance to the tunnel. Draco nearly jumped him but Hermione put a hand on his chest to steady him. She hid the tiny joy she felt at knowing Draco was jealous. Ron had been jealous once but he'd never defended her honor. Mostly, he just yelled at her and ruined her Yule Ball. "We off yet? I can hear people laughing downstairs and the band's started playing."

"Let's," said Ginny, her voice sweet as honey.

She was always chipper after she got laid – noticed Draco – unlike Hermione who apparently went into psychotic episodes. He sighed and led the way through the tunnel. Hermione took the real Ron's arm and followed. Before they headed out into the garden path, Draco took out the jewelry boxes he'd taken from his mother's closet and pinned a broach on each of the girls. They were shaped like peacocks and Hermione was quite sure the diamonds that made their tails were real.

"This doesn't match my outfit," whispered Ginny to Hermione.

Draco scoffed. "My father gave my mother one of these every birthday. It was his way of marking his territory. She hasn't worn them since he went to prison. They're one of a kind and worth more than this house, so don't lose them. They're how she'll recognize you."

The girls nodded and straightened up like they'd been given a mission from God. Don't lose the priceless artifacts because they'll save your ass. Simple enough.

He tossed the boxes behind him into the tunnel and pointed at a staircase at the end. It ended at a grate which let in the fading sunlight. "This leads to the maze outside the right wing. Take a left and follow the hedges towards the main house. It'll get you inside the gates but not inside the house so make sure Mother sees you at the door. She'll be standing there to greet you."

They all nodded and Harry and Ginny went first. Ron went to lead Hermione out but she wouldn't budge. She was staring at Draco like a wife watching her husband go off to war. Ron imagined her and old widow waiting by a lighthouse in a black dress and scoffed. "You'll see each other again!" squeaked Ron, quite sure he was talking to himself. "Get a hold of yourselves for two seconds! Stupid werewolf hormone crap…"

Draco smirked and kissed Hermione's cheek before sending her off. He couldn't bear to kiss elsewhere with Ron's lips. He didn't want her to get a taste for it.

Ron practically dragged her up the stairs. The maze was… well, like any other maze, Hermione imagined. It was green and unbelievably tall but they had come out on the outer ring. She could hear music coming from the main house, louder and louder as they drew closer. She had seen the front of the house from the distance but up close, it looked even bigger. The front was lined with great arched windows and elaborate burgundy drapes. The door itself was large enough for Hagrid to walk through unobstructed and carved with designs of angels and ivies. She had seen the designs all throughout the main section of the house.

"This way," Ron hissed, leading her to the thick, long line of well-dressed guests entering the house. Harry and Ginny dragged so they'd be behind her. Just as Draco had told her, Narcissa Malfoy was waiting at the door, shaking the hand of everyone going inside. She knew every face, every name. On either side of her were two guards, large like two great black towers around her. From their lack of expression, Hermione was quite sure they were dog soldiers like the Death Eaters back at Hotel Gravita.

The line narrowed as they neared the entrance. And then – perhaps because they were all caught up on how gorgeous Narcissa looked from up close – too quickly they reached the entrance. Hermione cleared her throat and reached out to shake Narcissa's hand. Ron just gaped, wide-eyed. Hermione gave him a small kick in ankle and he snapped awake, bowing as was customary.

"My dear Ms. Wolf!" Narcissa cooed, going to hug Hermione. She leaned in close and whispered, "Where's Draco?"

"He's Polyjuiced to look like Ron here. He'll be coming later to lead you out. We're wearing your broaches so you know who we are," Hermione hissed quickly, pretending to kiss Narcissa's cheek.

They exchanged another greeting and hurried inside. Hermione turned back to see Narcissa greeting Ginny, making up some name for her as they entered. There must have been 600 people in the house and yet, they could walk perfectly through without crowding.

Ron laughed with relief. "Phew! I can't believe we got away with that!" he whispered, leading her into the main ballroom. She had seen the mirrored hallway briefly but it had not been in use. Now, rose-shaped candles were floating all around, sending a warm glow down upon them. She no longer looked so deathly pale, she noticed. The roof was visible, finally, and she could see the elaborate arches and murals.

"Did they seriously recreate the Sistine Chapel in here?" said Ginny, coming up behind her.

"Is that what that mural is?" asked Harry.

"Does it matter?" snarled Ron. Hermione understood why he might feel out of place. She remembered his face at the Yule Ball. She knew he didn't like dances. But, most of all, he did not like to be reminded how much his family lacked. They did not have money for these sorts of balls. He certainly didn't know 600 people. Still, as Hermione wished to remind him, why would he need 600 strangers to fill his home when he had three of the best friends anyone could hope for? If Draco had grown up with brothers or sisters or friends the likes of Ron's, she was sure he would have been a grander person. Spoiled rotten still, but a better person indeed.

"No, Ron," was all she could manage. "It really doesn't."

She turned up to him but his face was startling. He was spinning around, looking for an exit.

"What is it?" asked Hermione and Ginny all at once. Harry had the same look. "What do you see?"

The last couple entered and the door shut behind them. The back lining of the door was also mirrors and there was not a single door or window in sight. It felt like they were trapped inside a disco ball. There were, however, a dozen guards posted at every wall, their sleeves rolled up so the whole crowd could see their marks. And, Narcissa was nowhere to be seen.

"Welcome ladies and gentleman!" came a voice from the center of the room. The crowd cleared a circle around him. Hermione got the first look of the white-blond hair and instantly gasped, digging her nails into Ron's arm. "Welcome to Malfoy Manor! May you enjoy your time with us!"

"Is that…" began Ginny but soon forgot how to speak. The man had stolen her voice with a single look around the room.

Harry nodded and, with a resigned sigh, answered, "Lucius Malfoy. In the flesh."

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_Told you it wasn't going to be easy but I promise it's not what you think. _

**Reviews are better than stupid werewolf hormone crap. **


	19. Anomalies

**CHAPTER NINETEEN:** _Anomalies_

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_We reached 300 reviews! Woot! Almost at 400! You guys are the greatest fans ever. I mean, if you bottled you guys, you'd make Draco-flavored rainbows. That's how awesome you are. _

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"What's that you were saying about this not being a trap?" hissed Ron into Hermione's ear.

"Shut up," growled Harry. Lucius seemed to be repeating the same statement over and over again, flickering in and out like a hologram. "He's not real, I think."

Hermione shook her head. "It's a recording. You're right."

"How creepy is that?"

They all nodded in agreement. "How do we find Narcissa within all these people? Within all these Death Eaters? Are they illusions too?"

Hermione shook her head. They weren't still or looped their behavior. Each agent had their own twitches. They all seemed to search the room, watching the center of the ballroom which meant they probably didn't know about the secret tunnels. "They're human."

"No," said Ron ominously, giving Hermione's arm a gently squeeze. "I don't think they are."

Everyone turned to him as they headed to the punch bowl. Sure, it was a fountain instead of a bowl but the idea was there. "They're not…" began Hermione. She sniffed the air, hoping to catch something but there was nothing, not even the foresty scent that followed Draco and her. All she smelled were the white flowers adorning the room. "I can't tell. They're too far away."

"Yes, let's keep it that way," said Harry, taking a sip from his drink. He paused and looked at it, considering whether it was poisoned or not.

"I have no fucking clue where the tunnel entrance is!" A snooty couple shot them a weird look so they hushed down. They could barely hear a thing over the band. It was playing a mid-tempo jazz song and couples were beginning to dance around the flickering image of Lucius.

"Blend in, guys," Hermione told no one in particular. She didn't feel like dancing.

"How are we going to create a distraction?" whispered Ginny.

Harry had on the goofiest smile and was looking at one of the guards, a blond one fidgeting with his robe. "Hey Ron, remember how Hermione distracted Snape first year in the Quidditch field?"

Ron mirrored his smirk. "After you, mate!"

"Stop, you two. We'll look for the tunnel entrance first. If not, you're just creating chaos for nothing," scolded Ginny. Harry surreptitiously pulled out his wand and made his way through the crowd. Hermione and Ginny lingered against the wall, pretending to be talking as they rounded the walls. They kept looking for the mirror handle Draco had pulled. The main entrance had black, iron handles, probably on purpose.

"So… nice toga," joked Ginny, taking a sip of her drink. "What happened to the dress?"

Hermione sighed, her eyes on the mirrors. "It's in shreds on Lucius Malfoy's office floor." Her voice was distant, empty of much feeling. Ginny knew this meant she was concentrating on finding the tunnel entrance. "Shame. I liked that dress."

"Looks like he can afford to buy you more."

"It sucked," she said, again with no emotion.

Ginny stopped dead in her tracks. She cleared her throat and put down the punch glass on the first raised flat surface she saw. "Excuse me?"

Hermione just kept going, watching the glass. "Well, it was pretty great until… well, Germany tried to invade Poland but Poland freaked out."

"Are you Poland in this scenario?"

"Let's say I am."

"Let's say you're not. Why the hell would you freak out?"

Hermione shrugged. "Pain."

"I hear shifting into a wolf is supposed to be one of the most painful things out there. He can't be _that_ bad, 'Mione.."

She paused and looked over to Ginny, who was staring down at her feet, biting her lip. "I'm happy for you, Gin. Really happy," she said, rubbing Ginny's back. "And we should throw a fucking parade for Harry."

"Who says it was with Harry?" joked Ginny, nudging her with her elbow.

Then, Hermione stopped again and reached out for the mirror handle next to a mammoth-sized vase of flowing white flowers. They were all around the room and Hermione realized they were probably positioned next to the secret entrances. "Perfect!" she hissed, looking over to Ron and Harry who were just standing next to each other, cross-armed, near the punch fountain.

Their eyes met hers and she gave them a small nod so they'd know she'd found the tunnel. Well, _a_ tunnel but anything was better than this disco ball from Hell. "Ginny, cover me," she said and Ginny instantly turned around and watched the crowd. Nobody was paying any attention to them. They were just two girls chatting it up in the corner.

Hermione leaned back against the door, obscured by the large vase, and pulled the handle. After two quick tugs, the door budged and she snuck in. It was the correct tunnel, it seemed. Their footprints were still on the ground. Nobody else had used the tunnel in years.

She knocked twice on the door and waited for Ginny to knock back, telling her it was clear. She snuck back into the ball and gave Harry and Ron another nod. The tunnel was clear and it was correct. Harry looked over to the main entrance where certain laughing couples were being allowed back outside for a smoke.

Hermione crossed the crowd and Harry met her halfway. Ron and Ginny continued to survey the room, looking for Narcissa. As soon as Hermione and Harry left the ballroom, Ron snuck into the tunnel. So far, they had escaped unseen, unrecognized. Narcissa was still by the door, surrounded by her two guards in black robes.

She pretended to laugh with Harry and stumble out into the courtyard as if drunk. Her eyes met Narcissa's for a moment. There was something there she didn't quite recognize. It was fear, an emotion that should never be displayed on a face so beautiful.

They left the courtyard and entered the maze, following the outer rim. Draco, as Ron, was pacing in front of the entrance to the tunnel. As soon as he saw her, he ran to hug her, hiding his face in her hair. "God, I can't believe you made it out of there. Has is started yet?" he asked.

She pushed off. "Has what started yet?"

His eyes were wide, his palms sweaty. He hadn't been running but he sounded out of breath. "The massacre! They're not going to try to recruit Death Eaters. They're going to sick the werewolves on them and turn them. As soon as the Polyjuice runs out, the guards are living triggers."

"Polyjuice… no wonder I couldn't smell them. How did you find out?"

"The guards were talking to my mother. They're not letting her in the room. I could hear everything. She made sure I heard."

Harry let out a small string of curse words. "Ginny is in there!" he shouted, running out of the maze before Hermione could hold him back.

She tried to run after them but Draco caught her own. "He's going to ruin everything!" Hermione called.

Draco shook his head. "The mission's changed. Let him take care of his own."

"We found the tunnel. Ron's probably already waiting for us there."

He went back to pacing, biting his fingernails. "We can't let the people in there die!"

Hermione felt a small jolt of pride at seeing him care. "They deserve it," she lied, testing him.

He didn't stop so he obviously believed it. "It doesn't matter. We can't let them become this… like us. I will not have another life on my conscience, Hermione. I couldn't take ano—"

"Hey hey hey!" she hissed, taking hold of his shoulders so Ron's blue eyes bore into hers. "You have no one on your conscience, understand? I am not your victim and you are a greater man than… than you know. Alright?"

His eyes had begun to water. "I don't see any way out of this, any way to—"

"You are not alone," she whispered into his cheek so she wouldn't have to see Ron's face.

It was bad enough to hear his voice, feel his hands upon her. It wasn't right. She moved his large, clunky hands to her waist and rested her forehead to his, eyes closed. If they tilted a little to the side, shuffled from foot to foot lamely, they might just be dancing in the garden. She'd hoped it calmed him but she could feel the pressure on her waist and knew he wasn't right.

"The others will most likely be getting help. As soon as they get off Malfoy grounds, they can communicate with the Order. You'll see. We just have to go back to the party and make sure we handle the guards if they start turning."

She kept her voice low and soothing because she knew that as soon as he opened his eyes, the real world was going to come crashing back down upon him.

He sighed and his shoulder fell. "How many guards are watching my mother?"

"Two."

He smirked and pushed away, his eyes still closed. "We have to get my mother in the room. That way, we can watch her. If something happens, I'm sending you both through the tunnel in the ballroom."

Hermione went to complain but Draco had taken her hand and pulled her down the maze too quickly. They stopped by the entrance to the main house. "They can't suspect why we're out here."

With a sigh, they came to the same disguise. They faced each other and Hermione started to scramble his hair around as though he'd just walked out of bed. He bunched up her dress and slipped some leaves into her hair, messing it up as well. She held his cheeks and braced herself. She'd hoped she wouldn't have to kiss Ron again for some time but it looked like they'd have to bear it to save 600 souls. She smeared her lipstick on his face as well she could and planted, finally, a large kiss on his neck, smudging his white collar.

They shared a nod, marking the completion of their disguise, and pretended to stumble back up the stairs of the house, clinging onto each other. "Welcome back," said Narcissa, still waiting outside the doors.

"Mother Malfoy!" shouted Hermione, pretending to drunkenly trip and fall into Narcissa's arms. "You are just so pretty!"

She pushed Narcissa back against the wall while Draco swung at the first guard's face, sending him crashing to the floor.

"Come on," hissed Hermione, pushing her back into the ballroom. "Hide!"

She closed the doors and turned to where the guards had Draco pinned against the wall and were punching him repeatedly. She looked down at her dress as the pain started up her spine. She growled and slipped quickly out of her dress so she'd have something to slip into after this. She kicked off her slippers and crouched down onto all fours. The change happened quicker than before like something exploded inside her.

With a snarl, she sent both guards flying out onto the stairs. They wouldn't be heard over the music but should other guests try to grab a smoke, they didn't want them getting caught in the crossfire. Draco pulled out of his tux and shifted in mid-run. He didn't know how stop himself from defending her. This courage was new to him, the selfless need to protect another an anomaly amongst Malfoys. But he fought well for Hermione.

The guards had trouble shifting because of the Polyjuice but they did nonetheless. Draco hadn't given them time to pull out their wands before they shifted so it was bare claw to claw. He could tell Hermione anywhere, not because of her scent but her strange russet coat. She was a red wolf, elegant but fierce as she bit into her opponent's neck and rendered him unconscious. She shifted back and ran to get Draco's wand from the pile of robes on the floor.

She shouted, "Wingardium Leviosa!" and the final guard was lifted off Draco and thrown into the middle of the maze.

Draco shifted back and hurried to find his clothes. They dressed quickly but they still looked battle-worn. "Tergero," he whispered and the blood was siphoned from their faces.

What's more, the Polyjuice potion had been cast off and Draco returned to his pointy face and white-blond hair. It gave Hermione a large sense of relief to see him again. Then, she remembered that they would have to enter the ballroom now not as a random couple but as the son of the household and his half-blood wolf mate.

"Damn," she cursed and held his hand firmly in hers. "Ready?"

They pulled open the door and slid close to the mirror wall, trying to keep away from the center of the crowd where they might be seen. Even though his hair was long and covered his eyes, it was still obvious that this was the great son of Lucius Malfoy.

"Do you see Harry or Ginny?" she asked as they neared the first vase. They could easily hide behind it.

"No," he whispered back. "They've probably gone through the tunnel. Do you see my mother?"

Hermione nodded towards the center of the crowd where Narcissa was chatting up a large circle of men. Their wives lingered nearby, looking pissed drunk and furious. Draco chuckled, despite the situation. Hermione turned to him and rested her hand on his chest, trying to slow down his breathing. She thought his chest might implode.

"Go into the tunnel," Draco begged, his hand on the mirror handle. "I'm begging you, Hermione. Go into the tunnel."

She laughed and tilted her head to the side, inspecting his anxious face with perfect calm. "My place is here, love. Why don't you get that yet? I'm not going anywhere."

"Would you two get a room already?" came a voice behind her. She was tired of unexpected surprises. It wasn't a voice she recognized either. She spun around and her eyes instantly landed on the large mop of vibrant blue hair. Her breath left her. Draco just stood idly as Hermione jumped this strange-looking girl, enveloping her into a hug. "Geez, Hermione! You smell like dog."

Draco couldn't spare a single laugh. He was staring murderously at the stranger. "Who are you?" he growled.

The blue-haired girl cocked a smirk and answered, "Don't you know your own cousin, Draco?"

His eyes shot wide. "Nymphadora?"

"Tonks," she corrected through gritted teeth. She reached up and smacked the back of his head.

"She's with the Order!" hissed Hermione in a low voice. "She's going to help us!"

Draco wasn't too convinced. "Who else is here?" he asked, his brow creased, making him seem years older. Hermione's excitement died quickly.

"The Ministry was alerted about what was going to happen today but they didn't do anything. So, after you left, Dumbledore put two and two together and sent some of us to infiltrate the ball."

He let out a huge sigh of relief and nodded. "How many others?"

"Me, Remus… Mad-Eye's entered through the right wing so he'll be here soon."

"That's it?"

Hermione scoffed. "Five is better than two, Draco. Be kind."

"No, Hermione," he corrected, glaring down Tonks so she knew this was serious. "These aren't ordinary guards. This isn't a Death Eater mixer. In a few minutes, those men around the room are going to turn into monsters and then they're going to kill off half of the room and bite the other half!"

Tonks shook her head. "The full moon's not till tomorrow."

Hermione looked from Draco to Tonks. Lightning bolts seemed to fly through the air between them. He didn't like having to explain himself to Muggle-lovers, let alone a part of his family he was sure he'd never see again. Hermione got the hint that it was more family rivalry than anything else.

"They're not dependant on the full moon anymore, Tonks," added Hermione, hoping Draco would calm if someone else did the explaining. "You-Know-Who's breeding a new type of soldier. They don't depend on the full moon and they can turn anyone at any time, in human or wolf form. What's more…"

"We're just like them," confessed Draco, facing his badly-tied shoes. "I was one of his experiments."

Tonks gulped and turned back to the crowd. "How do we… How do we save them?"

"We get out as many as we can," answered Draco, his jaw locked and teeth gritted. He raised his chin, trying to gather up all the courage and adrenaline he had left. "If something happens to me, get Hermione and Narcissa out."

"What are you going to do?" begged Hermione, clutching his arms to hold him still.

He just smirked and moved past her through the crowd, into the center where his mother instantly met his eyes and froze in mid-gossip. Hermione and Tonks watched from behind the tall vase, watched as he leaned in and hugged her for the first time. They both knew that Malfoys did not hug, did not show emotions.

Tonks leaned in and whispered, "What do you think he's doin'?"

Hermione shook her head, too tired to deny the futility of the situation, and croaked back, "I think he's saying goodbye."

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_I know it wasn't obvious but Lucius was my April Fool's joke. Ha! No, I promise he's very much still in prison. We'll see him soon though. And they'll be out of the Manor by next chapter. I promise. Then, we get back to Hogwarts where our poor star-crossed lovers have to go back to pretending they're enemies. That'll be fun, if they get out of this place in one piece. I might change my mind and kill Draco off after all. I've done it before. Who knows! Remember, the entire point is that their relationship is going to tear apart Hogwarts. This is just a little battle before the war. _

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ALSO! I'm terribly sorry to report that **I won't be updating** for a few days, possibly a week. I've got an art project that's kicking my butt. But, I will be answering questions and taking suggestions for future chapters. LOVE YOU ALL!

**Reviews are better than Poland. **


	20. The New Era of the Malfoy

**CHAPTER TWENTY:** _The New Era of the Malfoy_

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_I'm sure you've seen I've got other stories going on. Don't worry! I'm still into this one. The others are a totally different genre and book though I HIGHLY recommend _The Mortal Instruments_ series to any Harry Potter fan. Cassandra Clare is the reason I write Dramione. _

_Seriously. Read them._

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"Draco?" hissed Narcissa as he drew closer through the parting crowd. "What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, Mother," he whispered in her ear. He wrapped his arms around her lovingly, an embrace they hadn't shared in years. She didn't know how to react. Her arms slowly lifted up to caress his back, smoothing out the wrinkles on his robes. "I'm sorry I won't make it with you to the other side."

Suddenly, she understood and dropped her arms in defeat. This wasn't her son. This was another woman's hero.

"Draco, don—" she began but he pushed away too quickly.

"Run," he growled, an expression of calm washing over his angelic face. Narcissa gave a solitary nod and started running past him to Hermione, towards the tunnels. The guards had already begun to move through the crowd towards her. He growled protectively, took one last look back at Hermione, and shifted.

The crowd started running for the doors, past the guards. It took them longer to change since they were still under the Polyjuice potion but their first priority was Narcissa Malfoy. They all headed towards her, ignoring the fleeing crowds. Hermione understood the plan and started sending people through the tunnels, running from vase to vase leading them away from the ballroom.

"Hurry!" she yelled, pushing a couple through the door. She tried to free as many as possible but the roar of the screaming crowd was too much. She fell to her knees beside a vase and crawled towards the wall. The pain was getting unbearable. It never took this long to change. With a trembling hand, she reached up to the straps of her dress and pulled it down. She stood and the dress gathered by her ankles. Two steps later and she was a wolf, feral and on the attack.

She tried desperately to make it to Draco but two Death Eater wolves jumped her as she defended the main tunnel. They were trying to get to Narcissa. She managed to dig her teeth into one of them but he spun her around and threw her against the wall. The other tried to ram into her but she moved aside and he hit the mirror wall head first.

The previously wounded wolf came at her again but was suddenly lifted up into the chandelier and thrown across the room. Hermione turned around and saw Tonks, her wand in hand, trying to keep the wolves away from the tunnels. Ron stood beside her and Harry and Ginny were protecting the main entrance along with some other wizards who stayed behind to help.

She whirled around and saw Draco being attacked by three wolves. She ran to catch him but Lupin got in her way. "Stop!" he shouted up at her. She growled and he moved back. "You're going to get hurt, Hermione!"

Her human mind was trying to put pieces together, trying to understand why Lupin would stop her but her wolf mind had a single mission. _Protect him. He's yours. Protect him!_

She nudged Lupin aside as gently as possible, though he did end up on the floor anyway, and charged at the wolves. Harry petrified one and Ginny took the other. Tonks came to help Lupin up but before she could help take down the final wolf, Hermione had already torn off one of his limbs with her teeth. Draco delivered the final blow and trampled the wolf's head to the ground, hard enough to render him unconscious.

Everyone gathered around Draco and Hermione, the last two remaining wolves. Hermione was crouched down beside Draco, whose abdomen had been ripped down the side. Ron hurried to her side but Tonks pulled him back. "That's not Hermione!" she said. "She's not thinking straight! She'll kill you!"

"They're different!" he shouted back, pulling his arm away. "Look at them! All they care about is each other. They're not dangerous. She was just trying to protect him!"

He paused, his face stricken with realization. Harry gripped Ginny's hand and stared at Ron. "Go,  
he told Ginny, his voice dripping with shame. "Go help her."

Ginny and Harry gulped and went to see the extent of Draco's injuries, trudging carefully forward. Hermione whined and nudged Draco's thigh with her muzzle, pointing to the others that he needed help.

"Are you okay?" Ginny asked her, petting her head. She felt the need to cry at the sight of Hermione, so helpless and unable to change back. All she wanted was to help Draco and she was stuck watching. Harry was inspecting Draco's wound, no idea what he was going to do. Hermione was the one with ideas. Hermione was the one with solutions. Hermione couldn't very well speak now, could she?

"He's unconscious," confirmed Harry. "But he's not dead. He'd change back if he were dead, right?"

Everyone shrugged. Lupin got up off the floor, holding his broken wrist, and nodded. "He's not dead. Don't worry, Hermione. We're going to get him some help but he shouldn't be moved. Just wait until Moody finishes with the last werewolf outside and then he'll get the Order down here to clean up."

Narcissa came running back out of the tunnels, pushing people left and right. "Draco!" she called, looking through the melee for a familiar face. "DRACO! Where is my son?"

She found Ron whom she'd previously seen with Hermione and took hold of the collar on his robes. He didn't answer, merely looked over where the two wolves were lying down on the ground of shattered glass. One had a reddish-brown coat and was resting on her front paws watching the other, a broken white wolf with deep gashes all over his chest.

"Is that—" she began, unable to finish.

Hermione seemed to relax her shoulders and hide her head in her paws. Slowly, she began to finally shift back. Narcissa pulled off her coat and ran to cover Hermione up. "I'm sorry!" Hermione yelled, ignoring the coat and hanging onto Narcissa's dress. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect him! There were too many! Too many!"

Narcissa didn't know how to react. This Muggle-born _kid_ was clinging all over her, begging her forgiveness for something she had no control over. Could she really love her son so much that she would place his safety over her own head like this? She sighed and hugged Hermione, who had begun to sob.

"It's not your fault, dear," she whispered, patting her on the back the way she should have done to Draco. "Just breathe."

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Draco woke up with the strongest headache since summer. The fluorescent lights were blinding him and he couldn't really sit up in bed. He was in a bed. Yes. Little by little, he was realizing where he was. Except he'd never been there before.

"Where am I?" he asked, feeling someone's presence near him. Someone yelped – it sounded like Hermione – and he was suddenly painfully embraced by two thin arms.

"Oh thank God you're awake!" she shouted. Definitely Hermione. He practically choked on her hair.

He didn't have the strength to hug her back. "Sweetheart, I can't breathe."

She backed off and his vision improved. He was in a large room with gray walls. It must have once had color but years of soot from the chimney and dust from neglect had turned everything a grimey yellow color. "This isn't the Manor."

She shook her head, smiling as though her wrinkly eyes could hold back the tears. He didn't understand. All he remembered was his mother and the same worried expression in her eyes as he… he said goodbye? Flash! And every memory was back in place.

He didn't want to inspect his injuries. He was pretty sure he knew exactly where he'd been hit by the bruise-like feel all over his ribs. They always went for the ribs. He took her hand and squeezed and it seemed to drift all his pain towards his hand.

"Did my mother make it out okay?" he asked. She nodded enthusiastically, still unable to speak. "Hermione, love, why are you so sad? Did something happen? Is someone injured?"

"You!" she finally shouted. "I couldn't shift back and I didn't have a wand and none of us knew how to treat you while you were in wolf form!"

He smiled because she really was cute when she worried.

"Stop smiling! You could have died!"

He pulled her towards him. She fell atop him and crushed her arm into his ribs. He hissed and she quickly moved to the side of the bed, lying down by his side and hiding her face in his shoulder. "You look tired," he whispered, twirling his fingers in her long hair. It seemed bushier than usual like she'd just walked out of a steam room.

She sat up instantly. "You nearly die and the best thing you can come up with to excuse the fact that you _stupidly_ charged – alone – into a room full of werewolves is that I look tired?" she spat, moving to straddling his hips.

Draco knew she was furious. He'd been abnormally brave, which was understandably a cause for anger, but she was straddling a very important part of him and he was trying very hard to concentrate on unsexy thoughts. He knew she was still babbling about God knows what but all he saw was the way her shirt slid open a little as her chest heaved with anger and he got a slightly closer look at her bra.

"Jesus, Hermione," he finally hissed, resting his head back on his pillow. He had to concentrate on some sort of retaliation or else she was going to excite him a little too much. "What about you? Why the hell didn't you go how I asked? If you weren't getting trampled by those two wolves, I would never have tried to get away and the big burly black one wouldn't have gotten a chance at my chest. Did you ever think of that?"

Her eyes opened wide and she slipped off him. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her feet dragging towards the door. She couldn't even look at him straight in the face.

"Hermione!" he called. "Come back! I didn't mean it like that!"

But she was already gone.

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It was just after four when Ron came walking in, a potion in his fist. He extended it out to Draco and said, without an ounce of emotion, "From Hermione."

Draco saw the color of the potion and he knew it instantly. Wolfsbane.

"Tonight's the full moon?"

Ron nodded, his hand still extended in front of him as though trying to keep as much distance between him and Draco as possible.

"Weasley, talk to me!" Draco demanded. "How is she? Where will she stay during the change?"

He shrugged, still reluctant to speak. He knew if he spoke, a whirlwind of accusations and angry diatribes would just spill out. Then, Draco's angry exterior faded and the expression of the sad, lonely, lovesick boy he was resurfaced. And Ron knew he had to say something.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, put the potion into Draco's hand, and softly explained, "You can't say those things to her. You can't expect to do something selfless for her – like telling her to leave before the battle – and expect her not to do the same for you. We're Gryffindors, Malfoy. We watch over our own. And we don't turn back on a battle."

"I saw you. You came back."

"Yea, well… we came back for Hermione. Don't get us wrong."

Draco smirked halfheartedly and took the long vial of potion in his hand, twirling it between his fingers. "I didn't mean to insult her. I didn't mean any of it. I know I should be thankful."

"No," said Ron. "You should just… let her love you the only way she knows how."

Draco blinked twice, caught by surprise. "You're telling _me_ to love her? Are you serious? You? Telling me to… to be with Hermione?"

Ron laughed despite his better judgment. "Battle changes a man," he joked.

"No it doesn't! Not you anyway. You've been in battle since you were eleven!" screeched Draco, not letting the subject go. "You like me! You think she and I are right! You like me for Hermione!"

Ron scoffed though it was obviously ineffective at deterring Draco's infectious smile. "I did before you fucked it up, you numbskull!"

"Oh right as though I'm just letting her walk away after a little itty bitty argument. I need to see her again. Bring her back to me!"

Ron glared but he knew he had to do it. He knew he had to be the good friend and bring her to him.

"Please, Ronald," Draco asked solemnly, seriously. "I don't want her to have to change alone tonight. I couldn't stand it if she was alone."

Ron nodded and left.

-----

The door slipped open and Draco jumped, pulling himself up into a sitting position. He smoothed out the creases on his sheet and prepared himself to grovel if need be. He never expected he'd ever bow down to anyone but, being Hermione, he'd get on his knees any day to get her back. Somehow, she made him feel like he wouldn't be weak for apologizing. He'd actually be grander for it, a better man fit to be with her. Ever since summer, she had begun a transformation in him. She made him a better man just by staying.

But it wasn't her at the door. It was his mother, dressed in black robes that certainly did not belong to her. They were dusty, like the mysterious room he slept in now, and the black had faded into gray over time. The seams were raggedy and the style was from maybe fifty years ago.

What had he done to her? Taken her away from everything she'd ever known. Still, from her expression, one could see no ill will towards anyone. In fact, she wore a smile the likes of which he hadn't seen since he was a small boy playing freely in the manor gardens.

"Mother?" he asked this new woman before him.

"Hermione told me you'd waken," she said, her hands folded on her lap as she came to sit in the same spot Ron had taken. Nobody but Hermione had bothered to sit in the chair and he wondered if she was distancing herself from him.

"Obviously," he answered, his tone more shocked than insolent.

She reached up and smoothed his hair back from his face the way she did when she put him to bed years ago. She had stopped when Lucius told her she was babying him and making him weak. There was no one stopping her now.

"We're safe here. Thanks to you," she whispered lovingly. It was the sort of thing that needed to be whispered so he knew she meant it especially for him. She always whispered her I Love You's, should his father hear. It was a habit that would not easily be erased, much to his displeasure. He didn't know he was doing the same to Hermione, whispering he loved her when she could not hear.

"Where's Hermione? Is she okay?"

Narcissa shrugged. "You will have your time with her. All the time you'd like."

"What?"

"You're expected back at Hogwarts."

"What?

"Draco, love, come up with a new word."

Her eerily soothing voice annoyed him. "No!" he shouted. "I don't understand what's going on! Where are we? Why are you dressed like that? What happened after I blacked out and why is Hermione so sad? What aren't you telling me mother?"

She gulped and her smile reluctantly faded. "We cannot go home again, Draco," she answered in a somber voice. "Malfoy Manor is dangerous. You will go back to Hogwarts under the safety of Dumbledore's shadow, where you can finish your mission and be with Hermione. And I will stay here, at Grimmauld Place, protected by Mr. Moody and the Order."

"Mother—" he began but stopped himself because he knew there was nothing he could say that could make his mother any different. She was strangely… happy? "Mother, you can't stay here."

"It's better than a prison cell, Draco, and the company is kind. I will be very happy here."

He tried to tell whether she was lying for his sake but his mother was always the best liar of them all, the greatest trophy wife on the block. She slipped her hand into the side pocket of her dress and pulled out a round package wrapped in a blue handkerchief.

"I was able to save some thing before we left – mostly mementos – and I figured you'd like this back."

She handed him back the Orb of St. Anthony and bent down to kiss his forehead. "I love you," he whispered. She whispered it back and went to the door where Mad-Eye Moody was pacing outside. He smiled brightly when he saw her, crinkling his scarred face. As the door closed, Draco watched in amazement as the disfigured man bent down to kiss his mother's hand and lead her down the stairs. He listened for the gentle clunking of Moody's false leg on the wooden stairs, amused and appalled all at once.

-----

It took an hour for Ron to convince Hermione to come see him. Though he spoke very little, the long moments in-between sentences were killing his resolve. She wasn't crying – thank God – but she was still sitting lamely on the dusty couch in the living room on the first floor, staring out into the unlit fireplace.

"You look like shit," he'd told her fifteen minutes after sitting down beside her. Probably not the best way to start a serious conversation but it was the first thing that came to mind. She did look awful. She hadn't slept all night waiting for Draco to wake.

"Thanks, Ron," she grumbled back, bringing her legs up to hug her bare knees. "Did he send you?"

"Yup. Trippy, ain't it?" She smiled faintly. "He's sorry for what he said."

A long silence swept over them. "He shouldn't have to be. I'm the one who put him at risk," she mumbled into her knees.

Another pause. "You and I both know we'd all be dead if you hadn't taken care of those wolves."

She raised her vision off the fireplace and watched Ron sit down beside her. "He loves me," she said, telling herself more than Ron.

"Yup," he said cheerfully, happy to have the conversation turn in his favor. "He was just worried about you. You didn't do this to him."

She sighed, nodded, and began to trudge up the stairs. Halfway there, her energy started to fade. The worry aside, she began to feel the exhaustion in full strength. Ron watched her go, worry making his smile drip unceremoniously. He looked out from the living room into the old kitchen where Harry and Ginny were laughing with his mother over a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. And there he sat, alone, on a dusty couch full of holes, surrounded by portraits of the dead.

"I hope you're happy, Hermione," he whispered honestly to the empty fireplace. "I hope you're happy enough for the both of us."

-----

_They're going back to Hogwarts! Woot! The real fun starts now. I promise. The war at Hogwarts is going to get tricky. And don't forget Draco's "mission." Muahahaha! He's so going to get in trouble. _

**Reviews are better than good talks with good friends. **


	21. For Draco's Sake

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:** _For Draco's Sake_

-----

_They'll be back at Hogwarts and you'll start to see how the school reacts to Draco. It'll get intense next chapter but this one's kind of necessary before then. And no, Hermione's STILL not letting him touch her again but they do come upon an accord on their relationship. Enjoy the tension! _

-----

She opened the door slowly, terrified of his expression, but he seemed calm enough. He stared much as she had at a random spot before him, his hands covering the Orb in his lap. When he saw her come in, he slipped the Orb into the bedside table drawer and smiled at her, extending a free hand. She took it and sat down on the bed, in the little spot he'd cleared just for her.

She smiled back and no words needed to be said. His hand caressed her cheeks, slowly down her neck to the neckline of her blouse. She winced and he drew back, wondering if she'd been injured there the way he had but finding no visible wound.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, taking his hands in hers and setting them back down on her lap. "Not yet. Not for a while."

He nodded, reaching for his vial of potion beside the Orb. She pulled her own long vial out of her side pocket and they drank at once. The drowsiness began almost instantaneously. She dragged herself off the bed and went to lock the door. She unbuttoned her shirt – it took her twice as long as usual – and slid out of her skirt.

Draco grinned when he saw she wasn't wearing any underwear. If she was, she'd taken it off as his eyes drooped closed. She slid into the bed beside him, careful not to aggravate his wounds, and fell asleep in his arms before they ever turned.

Tonight, he changed without pain and she without worry.

-----

They woke up the next day in essentially the same position they'd been the night before. Hermione had her leg intertwined with Draco's, her head still on his safe shoulder, and was whispering something unintelligible when the light knock came at their door. Draco sat up quickly, picked up the shredded sheets from the floor, and covered her up as much as he could, wrapping one of the shreds around himself before he opened the door.

"Hello, Weasley," he told Ron, sounding as tired as he felt.

"Well you healed up nicely!" he answered, sickeningly cheerful. He reached out and poked Draco in the ribs. He didn't even flinch. He looked down and saw two thin little scars where the gashes had been last night. "Though you had plenty of time since you've been sleeping all day. You guys ready to go?"

Draco groaned and turned back towards Hermione, still sleeping naked on her side of the little bed. She was the only ray of light in the entire dreary, windowless room. He smirked, watching her for a second longer. He so didn't want to wake her.

"Uh, we're going to need a minute and Hermione's going to need some clothes. Can you get Ginny to lend her some?"

Ron nodded and headed back downstairs. _There was something wrong with him,_ Draco thought. He was much too cheery, as though he knew something no one else did, something Draco would sure dislike.

He turned his attention back to Hermione and went to gently shake her awake. "'Mione?" he whispered. "Baby, wake up. It's time for school."

She shot up so quick at the mention of school that her forehead rammed into Draco's nose. He let out a long string of profanities and brought his hands to his face. "Draco!" she shouted. "You scared the life out of me! I thought I was late for school!"

The pain quickly vanished and he responded lightly, "Of course not. It's Saturday evening. We've got all the time in the world, dear."

She smiled because she loved it when he called her dear. She smiled because she'd woken up naked in his bed so many times that she didn't even notice anymore. She smiled because for the first time in weeks, she did feel like she had all the time in the world because she knew now he would never leave her.

"They're waiting for us, apparently. Ginny will be up with some clothes for you in a minute and then we're off to Hogwarts."

She gulped like she'd just swallowed a very dry, very large piece of toast. "Draco, we have to talk."

He grimaced and stopped buttoning his clean, white shirt. He sat down beside her and, with a heavy sigh, gestured for her to continue.

"Look, we're going to be back at school and everything and I'd just like to get some things clear."

He nodded. "Go on."

"Are we—you know, an item?"

He laughed and fell back on the bed. "Oh please. Admit it. You only want me for my body."

She rolled her eyes and jokingly punched him in the stomach. "Draco, be serious. I mean, I know we're something but how _public_ a something are we?"

He saw the fear and insecurity in her eyes, in the hunch of her bare shoulders, and sat up again. He ran a gentle hand up her spine and soothingly answered, "Hermione, word of what I am is probably already circulating every wizard newspaper in the country. Do you really want to be associated with that? Do you want people asking questions about why you're with me? About what we are?"

"I guess not."

He leaned to kiss her shoulder and continued, "One day, the world will not care about us and we can be who we want to be. Until then, we'll just have to keep to ourselves."

"A secret affair," she whispered, a hint of intrigue flashing in her eyes. He laughed and kissed her neck, then up her jaw. "Don't think you can get away with everything just because you know my favorite spots."

"Your favorite spots? Really?" He moved his tongue along her jaw and across her lips. He landed upon her bottom lip and gently bit and pulled. "Like here?"

She pulled away and announced simply, "No."

She wrapped herself up in the shredded sheet and came downstairs in search of clothes. Draco waited but she never came back up. He got dressed and met them all downstairs by the front door. His mother was standing next to Mad-Eye, the same strangely honest smile on her face. They all had similar knowing smiles, except Hermione who seemed genuinely scared of something.

"What's going on?" he asked, searching their faces for an answer. Hermione looked away at the floor so he couldn't read her eyes. Nobody spoke a word on the way home but maybe that was for the best.

-----

Their rooms were just as they left them, not a sock out of place. Since they didn't have class till the next morning, they decided to stay in and avoid any mess. They'd arrived late so they'd yet to see another living soul. Harry was apparently meeting with Dumbledore, which never bode well for anyone. The Order had taken care of the bodies at the hotel, erasing some memories in the process, and Dumbledore was _not_ happy. Being Harry, everyone automatically assumed they were after him. Hermione and the others didn't correct them but they had to suspect Draco had something to do with everything. After all, he was one of _them_.

They had not planned anything but something in Draco's perverted mind had conjured up some sort of romantic evening at home. Just as Hermione got out of the shower and slipped into her nightgown, Ginny came through the portrait hole with a worried expression on her face. "Hey Gin," greeted Hermione. Both bathroom doors were open so Draco could hear everything. "What's wrong?"

Ginny sat down on the bed and timidly asked, "Can I stay here tonight? I don't feel like being alone."

Draco leaned against the doorway into Hermione's room and looked upon them. Ginny shot him an apologetic look but he just smiled back reassuringly. Despite her lousy taste in men and her even crappier lineage, Draco had grown to like her. He'd always respected her for her flying skill and there was something about being the enemy's girl that made her seem sincerely badass in Draco's eyes. After all, to be Harry Potter's girl, she had to be special. But to be Hermione's possibly only girl friend, she had to be pretty fucking great.

"Of course, Gin," answered Hermione. "But I don't understand? What's happened?"

"Harry's not back from Dumbledore's. I don't know—I don't want to worry. I know it's silly to fret over every little thing but it's Harry and I hate not knowing where he is."

Hermione raised an eyebrow and shot Draco a look. "I know the feeling. It's fine. And I'm positive he's at Dumbledore's. Poor guy just has a lot of explaining to do."

Draco nodded furtively. "No worries. You ladies get some rest and if you need me, I'll be next door."

Ginny raised an eyebrow after Draco shut the door. "No offense, 'Mione, but it's still eerie to see him be nice to us. Especially back at Hogwarts."

They laughed, despite the truth of it, and took their side of the bed. When Hermione woke up the next morning, Ginny had already rushed back to the dormitory so nobody would notice she'd left her bed. The first thing she did was check that Harry was in his bed and, glad to see him snoring in the same clothes as last night, she hurried to change for her Divination class.

Draco had heard Ginny leave and went to check on Hermione. He so hated sleeping without her next to him that he barely managed fifteen minutes of deep rest. She saw that it was him, smiled, and lifted the sheets so he could get in beside her.

"We have an hour before classes start again," he whispered.

"An hour before we go back to pretending we don't exist to each other?"

He nodded into her neck. He'd come to the realization that he wasn't sure whether it was her favorite spot and it didn't matter. It was one of his. "Yup," he answered solemnly, running his hands through her hair. It was silkier than usual and he thought he could spend the rest of his day exploring the feel of her hair running through his pianist's fingers.

"It's just a few weeks and then I get you all to myself for Christmas."

Her eyes shot open and she stood from the bed, seemingly startled. "Christmas?"

He realized he'd probably said something inopportune and quickly dismissed it. The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable so early on. "Well, yes, I thought we'd—uhm, never mind me. I didn't say a thing. Go back to looking like an angel and we'll talk later tonight."

An angel? Now she knew something was wrong.

"Draco, has Dumbledore talked to you at all about what happened?"

He winced and smiled falsely, trying to reassure her like a parent keeping a secret from his child. "Nope. Don't worry about it."

Yea, she didn't feel any better.

-----

They skipped breakfast, terrified of the crowds, and headed to class early. He had a lecture in the astronomy tower first because apparently Neville had burned down part of the greenhouse during a little experiment with mandrake teenagers and booze. When he got up the tower, he instantly found himself alone with a dark-skinned boy with long hair tied back in a neat ponytail.

"Draco," he greeted.

Draco just glared back and went to grab a seat on the floor near the telescope. "Blaise," he growled softly, his eyes unmoving from the boy's face.

Blaise raised an eyebrow and paced slowly before Draco, who had begun to reach blindly into his bag for his notebook.

"He's very disappointed in you, Draco," said Blaise in a sing-song voice.

Draco's eye involuntarily twitched. "Tell him what you want. He has no claim on me or my mother anymore."

"I was talking about your father."

Draco smirked and looked up again through his eyelashes. "So was I."

-----

Hermione hurried to Advanced Potions some time later. Slughorn shot her a strange look as she went to sit down and she realized then that the class hadn't arrived yet. She was maybe ten minutes early. Nonetheless, she relaxed and opened up her book.

She gasped. A black note had been slipped in between the pages, folded in half and stamped with the blue wax seal of a dragon wrapped around a fleur de lis. She'd seen Draco's signet ring on his bedside table and remembered the days when he wore it without exception. She wondered what the significance of it was and why he'd stopped wearing it but something told her it was best he didn't wear it after all. She ran her fingers over the paper, feeling the texture.

_Can't he just write me a regular note on regular parchment like a regular guy?_ she thought, sighing heavily as she ripped open the seal. It was such a pity. The seal was so lovely and so… French, though with a name like Malfoy, that was to be expected.

When she opened it to read the silver ink, she realized it wasn't from Draco at all. It read:

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_I am sorry to have to ask this of you – so much has been asked of you already in the name of our family – but I need you to keep what you saw back at the house a secret. As you know, my son is not aware of my plans to divorce his father. I ask that you watch over my Draco, whatever your relationship will become. I fear that you will overestimate the convictions of his heart and his only allies will fail him. As you know, my dear, you are all he has now. And I could not be prouder to welcome you into my family. _

_I'll be seeing Lucius at Azkaban this weekend. Since I'm sure he'll try to contact me to see how I am, I cannot hide the fact from him but I ask you occupy him so he does not insist on coming along. I do not wish him to see his father. You surely understand why._

_Please let him know I am well and that I think of you both constantly._

_All my love, _

_Narcissa. _

She read it over several times, slipped it back into her Potions book, and looked around the room. The class had started to fill up. She looked for Draco but he didn't walk in until the very last second, a large bruise around his left eye. She cursed softly beneath her breath and turned back to the blackboard.

She took out a piece of parchment and scribbled her own note to him as Slughorn stirred something on his desk.

_What happened?!?! _

She figured she'd take a page out of the Draco book on class notes. She folded it up under her desk, giving it wings like an airplane, and sent it flying towards him across the room. It landed on his lap and he instantly recognized it as her handwriting.

She watched him make up his own bird note, expertly crafted, from the corner of her eye. She pretended to bend down to fetch something from her bag as the bird came towards her. She opened it up on her lap and read:

_Not important. I'm fine. Want to have dinner tonight? _

She smirked and began writing her reply when Slughorn snatched up the note. "Ms. Granger! You should know better than to pass notes during my class! Now, I'm sure the class will be interested to know what was so urgent."

"But, professor—" she began but he quickly interrupted to read the note.

"'Stop trying to get into my pants, you…' Oh my, Ms. Granger, this is definitely inappropriate!" he shouted as the class burst into laughter. "No no no! I don't know who you intended this for, Ms. Granger, but I doubt you'll be seeing much of them in detention with McGonagall."

She groaned as her cheeks caught fire with shame. "Yes, professor," she said dumbly. She didn't bother looking around the room to know Draco was laughing hysterically along with the class.

Harry and Ron came rushing into the class, late as usual, and sat down beside her. "What did we miss?" asked Harry, noticing the red in her cheeks. She shot him a look like he shouldn't even ask and it instantly shut him up. He tensed and backed away from her ear. The class eventually quieted and the lecture continued but Hermione barely caught a word.

-----

As soon as class ended, Draco ran out of the room. She didn't bother questioning his speed until she felt him pull her into the girls' bathroom and pin her against the wall. "That was fucking awesome," he said huskily into her lips, kissing her passionately. When his hand started to round her thigh, she yelped and pushed him away.

"I'm so glad you find my public humiliation entertaining!" she shouted.

"Oh crap," he whispered. "You're angry."

She stomped her foot and crossed her arms, creating a barrier between their bodies. "Of course I'm angry! I have detention!"

He just smirked and stared at her. She noticed his bruise again and extended a careful hand up to caress his cheek tenderly. He winced and took a step back.

"Draco, did you get that looked at?"

He shook his head, avoiding her eyes. He knew she could read him with a single look. "It's nothing."

"No, you need to see Pomfrey."

"Can't you just heal it up really quick?"

She laughed. "No. Go to Pomfrey. I don't want people questioning who's healing you up all the time. I'm the only one in our grade who knows these healing charms. Sooner or later, someone's going to put it all together. Now, stop avoiding the question and tell me how it happened."

He put on a false smile and kissed the palm of her hand. "I'll tell you in detention."

-----

_This is the final chapter before my birthday, which is this Monday the 13th. I hate that I'm turning 19. I feel so bloody old! Anyway, next chapter is going to be hilarious. Everything from now on is going to be comedy laden with subtle mystery. Well, slightly more than usual. Each chapter is a different way to keep Draco and Hermione from sleeping together. Lol! I know. I'm evil. Well, enjoy it because I won't be updating for a little while I celebrate. _

**Reviews are better than sexual innuendoes in the classroom.**


	22. Playing Along

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:** _Playing Along_

-----

_Excuse the fluffy, lemony fun but I was in the mood. I had to do a lot of research for it. Hee hee. But it ends in a serious note because, well, this story _does_ have a plot. Also, forgive the monumental spelling errors. It's late and I don't have the energy to go back and edit. Enjoy!_

_This chapter is dedicated to the song Yesterday by John Lennon, and to Lisa. Thanks for last night. _

-----

As was their custom, they stayed in during lunch and dinner. Nobody suspected they were together. After all, Hermione practically lived in the library and as far as anyone knew, Draco had been fighting against Harry in Malfoy Manor. Of course, some had seen but nobody could really believe any gossip of that manner. It was like Rita Skeeter suddenly started writing that Viktor Krum was a cross dresser. Nobody would believe it, even if it _was_ true.

During lunch, if they wanted to be seen apart, she would grab one side of the library and he'd grab the other. Nobody was usually around so they could sneak looks and smiles and pass notes about the most inconsequential things. They'd managed to have a 15-minute conversation about fruit salad, simply because Draco dared her they couldn't. She gladly obliged, knowing fully well he didn't want to talk about the bruises or fights or the warrant that'd been issued on his head.

Then, come dinner, she'd make an appearance and play the happy teenager. She'd laugh with Harry and Ron, more genuinely than her guilt allowed, and talked boys and toys with Ginny. Neville occasionally joined in to complain about the harshness of their jokes. After all, not _every_ guy owned a Speedo. Hermione made a note to ask Draco later if he did but she was sure that, at one point, he owned one of everything.

She was back in her room before dessert, dragging her feet along with her books in hand. Her bag kept breaking and no matter how many times she fixed it, it just snapped again. It was her fault for carrying around _Hogwarts: A History_ like her own personal Bible on top of all her new werewolf anthologies.

She was pleasantly surprised to find the doors to the bathroom fully open. Draco was in bed, taking his nap. Apparently, he did this to kill time more than rest because he had an honestly bored expression on his dream-swept face.

"Draco?" she whispered, drawing closer. "You awake?"

He didn't answer so she figured he was. She threw down the books next to him in bed and sat cross-legged by his feet. She opened up her favorite volume of _Werewolf Mating Rituals_ and began reading.

"_The werewolf, when turned before reaching full maturity, will experience a flux in hormonal activity. The male teenage werewolf is often the least aggressive in battle but almost always the first to initiate sexual advances towards the female. The female is capable of releasing a type of pheromone that calls the male from as far as five kilometers away. In some cases, this pheromone has been linked to psychic activity between mates but information on this matter is inconclusive as most werewolves are not monogamous for long enough periods of time to develop a high susceptibility to the pheromone…"_

Draco stirred and shivered, turning on his side atop the sheets. She could tell by the creases on his forehead that he was having a nightmare. She thought to stroke his hair back like she knew he liked but remembered all too well that first night and the strength of his bite. Instead, she turned back to her book and decided she'd care for him once he woke. She flipped through to the most relevant chapters and continued.

"_Male teenage werewolves find solace in multiple mates because they are often cast out of their homes and forced to live with packs which usually contain very few females. It is then evolutionarily unsound for them to claim a single mate though it has been known to happen while in isolation where mates gather together for survival. Though, the intensity of the mates is entirely dependent on their human relationship since the male usually loses interest after the first consummation. The pheromones become less strong and, though still attracted to the female, he will not pursue her with the same intensity. At this point, the female naturally retracts from the male to create the illusion of disinterest and thus attract him once again—"_

He suddenly sat up in bed, looking around for her. She smiled and, now that he was finally awake, reached up and smoothed his hair off his forehead. He still hadn't cut it and it just kept getting sexier, she thought. She told herself to resist but there was no need. This aversion to his touch was apparently natural. She relaxed a bit more now that she knew she wasn't psychologically damaged. She didn't trust the books though. After all, she was the one that had been in heat. Why would Voldemort make the female more susceptible to the male's pheromones? There were so few females. Did he not want them to breed?

"Good morning," she joked and he snapped around to look for a clock. It was after 8:00. "You were sleeping when I came in."

He raked his hair back. "Why didn't you wake me? I don't want you to be alone for so long."

She smiled and leaned in to kiss him lightly on the lips. "I wasn't alone. You were right here this whole time."

He undid his buttons and threw his shirt off to the nearest chair. He was sweaty all over. He lifted up the book on her lap to read the title. "_Werewolf Mating Rituals_? Don't girls usually read Harlequin novels and the occasional Playgirl?"

She snapped it shut and joked, "What can I say? I like my men hairy."

He pulled her into his chest and laid them both back onto the headboard. She snuggled into the nook and closed her eyes. This, she would remember, were the greatest times.

"We have detention tomorrow," he reminded, kissing her temple. "What do you think they'll make us do?"

She shrugged and let out a great yawn. Sleep came rarely. "Probably make us write lines."

He agreed and watched her doze off in his arms. Unlike her, he did feel horribly alone. He wasn't very hungry anymore, not since they returned from Malfoy Manor and he didn't really know why. He just figured it was stress-related and let it go. To occupy his mind, he called for a roll of parchment and began his homework as planned. He realized his Potions book was on the other side of the room so he searched through Hermione's pile for hers.

He found the tattered old copy and opened it on his lap. Then, he saw it. The black note with his beloved Malfoy seal. He looked down to Hermione's sleeping body by his side, watched her chest rise and fall with perfect, serene rhythm. For a moment, just a split second, he wondered if she was a spy for his father. It would not have been the first time Lucius used that tactic.

He didn't hesitate to open the letter and read, instantly relaxing at the sight of his mother's handwriting. He knew it anywhere. And, though he wished the letter could have surprised him, he saw this coming. Of course she would divorce Lucius now that she and Draco were both safe from his influence. Was this what they had kept from him back at Grimmauld Place? It couldn't be her decision to see Lucius since she surely just came upon it.

It didn't matter. It warmed his heart to know his mother approved of them, that she trusted Hermione with her secrets. After all, Narcissa could never risk trusting anyone before. Everyone around her was on Lucius' payroll.

He continued his homework peacefully.

-----

Hermione awoke early Wednesday morning, far before dawn. Draco was still working by low wand light as to not bother her, not that it would have. She would rather leave the room than interrupt anyone's studies. She put on a big grin and sat up beside him.

He shot her a quick smile but didn't take his eyes off the parchment before him. "Give me a sec, 'Mione. I just have to finish this paragraph on the Sorcerer's Stone and then I'm all yours."

She smiled brighter and twisted to kiss his neck. She didn't want to get in his line of sight. "Take all the time you need."

He'd never written so quickly in his life. Instead of dotting his periods, he stabbed right through the parchment onto the books below. "Oh well," he said, noting the mess, and tossed the rolled up parchment aside. Suddenly, she was on her back and he hovered atop her, one leg over hers to lock her down. He rested onto his elbows on either side of her head and slowly lowered himself onto her lips. He was waiting for her to tell him no and so did not go further than the kiss.

He looked down upon her messy hair and sleepy eyes and froze. "What is it?" she asked.

"You look beautiful like this."

"Messy and bed-ridden?" He laughed and kissed her cheek. She remembered what she read from the book and waited for her sensor to go off, to tell her she'd given him too much, but it never did. This was a peaceful moment, no lust in the air and no pesky pheromones. "You know how I love to see _you_?"

He played along, recognizing it as her mischievous smile. "How?"

"With a quill in hand… and from a distance."

He laughed and got off her unceremoniously. "Fine fine. I get the hint. You like them hairy and nerdy. I hear Colin Creevey's open for business by the way. There's a flyer for him in the library if you're up for it."

She scoffed and kicked him lightly off the bed. "I happen to know Colin is a very gentle lover."

"Yea, the boys' locker room is abuzz at his gentleness."

Her eyes shot open and she sat up in bed. "He's _gay_?"

"As Elton John."

"Oh poor Elisa Devonskivolt. She had such a thing for him last year." Draco shrugged and went in search of his bathrobe. "What are you doing?"

"Taking a shower. What else? We've got class in a few hours and I didn't want to make a ruckus while you were sleeping."

She stood out of bed and stared at him, bewildered. "Aren't _you_ going to sleep?"

He shook his head, trying to avoid her eyes. "Nope. Not sleepy. Took a pretty long nap before, remember?"

This was of course a lie and she knew it. He'd only been sleeping 30 minutes tops before she walked in. Still, she resigned to play along with whatever lies he thought were necessary for her safety and peace. She wasn't telling him his parents were getting divorced, after all, and that constituted as a very large lie.

"Can I join you?" she asked sheepishly, her hands behind her back.

"Just a shower?" he confirmed, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded with the strangest look of serenity in her eyes. She wanted to believe they could do this little charade, that they could be a normal couple. He needed to believe that but it was unnecessary. They could never and should never be a normal couple. The day that happened, a lot of the glue that held them together would easily wither away.

He gave a nod towards the shower, gesturing for her to follow, and started to undo his black trousers. She took in a deep breath and pulled her blouse over her head, not bothering with buttons. She paced a little before the foot of the bed, hearing the shower turn on the glass door shut softly in the distance. She slid down her skirt and kicked it off towards the chair.

She continued to pace in her underwear for another minute. She knew he'd be done soon – men took a ridiculously short time in the shower, she'd noticed – and she'd lose her chance but something was keeping her away. She calmed her heart and told herself it would just be a shower. Just a shower!

With a great rush of adrenaline, she pushed down her panties and carelessly threw them over her shoulder. She stomped her way into the shower and was instantly blinded by a cloud of steam.

"Draco?" she called softly, reaching through the fog for the handle on the glass door.

The door was quietly pushed open and she stepped inside. She felt his hand caress her arm, covering her in slippery soap. She could see his face in the cloud; he was smiling brightly like a kid at Christmas. "I didn't think you'd come."

"I asked, didn't I?"

He nodded and kissed her lightly, setting the soap down on the wall dish behind her. Their chests grazed and she flinched. He was so warm against her freezing, nerve-fried skin. "Stop being so nervous, Hermione," he said with a laugh. "It's not like I'm going to rape you."

She smiled though the tension was thicker than the steam. "I know. I know. I just… It's hard to say yes. It's not that I don't want to. It's just hard to say yes."

"So I just shouldn't ask?"

She slapped him lightly and rested back onto the tile wall. "Of course you should. You're not the problem, Draco! I am. I'll get over it."

"You keep saying it's just you but there were two people in that office, Hermione. Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it! I hate not being able to touch you," he said, his shoulders hunched around her. He had her cornered against the tile wall, which was not helping her internal sensor. His eyes were painfully fixed on hers, perfect and silver and… weak? "Did it hurt too much? Was that it? Did I misread the signals? Did I not satisfy you enough?"

She laughed and kissed him. "Shut up, you idiot."

"Tell me, Hermione! I feel like the Hamburglar every time I look at you for too long. Did you finally realize you're stuck with me? Is that is?"

She scoffed. That wasn't it. "I realized that the day you bit me, Draco. As you can tell, I got over it quickly and a while ago."

She did want him, she knew. She told herself the book did not apply. She looked down at their bare feet as she usually did when trying to avoid his painful stares but found her eyes landing squarely on… well, Draco. He followed her eyes and snickered lightly. "You're blushing."

"It's hot in here. The water's scalding," she answered but her eyes didn't move. She figured the longer she stared at it, the more acclimated she'd get to having his naked body pressed up against her. It was the only way she was ever going to have sex again.

He reached over to the cold water knob and slowly turned, his lips lingered over her forehead. He didn't have to concentrate too hard to keep his excitement a secret. He'd woken up to her naked body often. She had always looked away but he didn't. He knew every curve on her body like the back of his hand. He didn't want her to think he was a sleaze when she obviously didn't want him.

Then, before he could say a thing, her confident hand stretched out into the space between them and stroked his shaft.

"Hermione, what are you—"

She shook her head, telling him to shut the hell up and go with it. She reached for his hand and set it softly on her waist as she continued to stroke up and down. She had to do it. She had to prove the book wrong.

"You don't have to do this!" he screamed as his body started to buckle, reading the concentration on her face.

She laughed and nipped gently at his neck. "Oh but I want to. I figure… as long as you're satisfied, you'll be less whiny."

And he'd also want less sex, which only suited her desires. He pulled her hand away after he came and drew her little body against his, hugging her beneath the now freezing water. He sighed heavily and waited for his body to stop shaking to finally firmly tell her, "You never have to satisfy me, 'Mione. I don't need you to wack me off in the shower and I don't need pity fucks, from you or anyone. I've told you before. All I need is you."

This was truer than she realized. He needed her presence. He needed to know where she was, who she was with, whether she was safe… all day. She didn't know that just before he'd fallen asleep, he'd had the Orb by his side, the Orb which was now tied to her in every which way.

-----

Wednesday was the longest day of Hermione's life and she had no idea why. She knew detention was looming but she also had not seen Draco since they kissed goodbye that morning. He wasn't in class, which wasn't at all like him, and he wasn't in the room sleeping because she'd gone to check during lunch. He'd skipped breakfast and lunch and she was very close to going to Snape to ask if he'd seen him.

She went to check on his room again at dinner but not even his books were there. She knew she should check the infirmary because her mind automatically went to that bruise on his eye the day before and its still loose culprit but her poor heart didn't let her.

She was about to head back to the Great Hall when she remembered they had detention in ten minutes with McGonagall. She ran to the other side of the castle, only to find Draco walking out of the detention classroom. She set aside all her worries about him and fell into step beside him.

"Where have you been?" she hissed, falling back a few steps so it didn't look like they were together. "You missed class."

He shrugged and instantly moaned. Screw the onlookers! She quickly pulled him into the nearest empty classroom and pulled off his robes. "Hermione, not here!"

She shot him and look and pushed back the collar on his shirt to examine the bruises. In a fit of anger, she slipped his shirt up over his head to inspect the others. Just as she suspected, the eye had not been the first attempt on his life.

"Who the fuck did this to you?!" she asked, going to inspect his knuckles. There were no marks, no broken or bruised skin. "Why didn't you fight back?"

His tired eyes fell on hers and she knew. If he'd fought back, he wouldn't be alive. It was the same reason he hadn't gone to the infirmary. The perpetrator couldn't be caught and there could be no investigation or both their lives might be in danger.

"Forget it. Come on," he answered with absolutely no humor in his voice. This wasn't the Draco she knew. It had to be serious if he wasn't joking it off. "We have detention. McGonagall's got the flu so they've passed us off to Hagrid."

"Promise you won't run away screaming this time?" she said, trying to provoke a smile or witty retort out of him but he just shook his head, slipped his shirt back on, and walked out of the classroom towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest without an ounce of expression.

Hermione followed a few moments later, unsure of what to do with her hands or how to stop the tears from forming. It wasn't just that he was hurt. It was that she knew in the pit of her stomach that he was hurt because of her.

-----

_Sorry about that. My mind always goes back to sad. Next chapter, Hermione's going to have to reclaim her panties. Should liven things up a bit. _

**Reviews are better than cross-dressing Viktor Krums. Ah! My eyes! **

_And you better 'cause my _City of Ink_ people are making you guys look seriously bad. Lol. _


	23. Up in Smoke

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:** _Up in Smoke_

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_Two chapters in two days! I do spoil y'all rotten, don't I? Actually, I couldn't sleep so I started making cookies and quiche at 1:00 am. I know. I know. I have the cravings of a pregnant woman. I burned the cookies because I got distracted with writing but the mini quiches came out great. Anyway! Enjoy the chapter. It was inspired by one of Gothic Lust's spoofs of LLDM. _

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"'ey there, you two!" sounded Hagrid, waving from his pumpkin patch. Hermione trailed behind with her arms crossed, shooting deathly looks at the back of Draco's head. She'd gone from worried to angry in the time it took for them to reach Hagrid's hut. "Why da long faces, eh?"

"What, am I supposed to be happy to be spending the night with a filthy Mudblood and her giddy oaf?" he mumbled, staring at the ground. Hermione could tell by his distant, non-menacing eyes that he didn't really mean it. The words just flowed out on automatic.

"You don't have to pretend, Draco. Hagrid knows about us. Harry and Ron already told him," she explained as she went to hug the big oaf like he was a giant teddy bear.

Draco raised his eyes suddenly. "In which case, sorry about that," he said, extending a shaky hand out for Hagrid to shake.

The giant looked down at the tiny hand dubiously. He then turned to Hermione as if asking if he was sincere. Hermione gave him an approving nod and Hagrid shook it reluctantly.

"I'm sure you two will get along fine," she said to no one in particular, turning onto the path into the hut. "You're both great big teddy bears."

They both found that incredibly hard to believe but followed her into the hut nonetheless. "So ya have detention, 'ave ya?" Hagrid asked, going to boil some water on the stove. "How do ya like yer tea, Mr. Malfoy?"

Hermione smirked as she stared off at Fang lying lazily in a corner. She waited for Draco to answer but he never did. He was drifting off into his own thoughts. She called his name and he seemed to snap out of it. Hagrid repeated his question and Draco finally answered, "Just pour on the sugar, sir. I like it syrupy."

Hagrid laughed. "Ya don' 'ave to call me sir, son."

"You don't have to call me Mr. Malfoy."

Hermione snorted and stole a chocolate chip cookie from the pile in the middle of the table. Draco watched and, after some contemplation, decided to do the same.

"So what do we have to do for detention?" he asked, settling in. The pain and fear or whatever was going through his mind started melting away. It wasn't just Hermione's presence which always soothed him. It was this silly little hut, far away from the castle and his father and the Slytherins.

Hagrid shrugged and sat down between Draco and Hermione around the little table. Hermione hadn't realized they'd chosen opposite sides of the table until then. It was strange, since they usually gravitated around each other.

"Nothin'," announced Hagrid with a great grin, pulling off his mittens and throwing them in a corner. Hermione wasn't sure how Draco would take to Hagrid's lifestyle but he had to learn. "I figured you'd just 'ang out 'n' talk. It's been a while since ya've come to visit."

"I'm sorry I haven't come, Hagrid. I've been so busy lately," said Hermione.

"It's been my fault," added Draco. "I'll make sure she visits more often."

Hagrid eyed him carefully. Draco seemed obviously uncomfortable but honest. "I'd like dat." A strange silence followed. It was Hagrid who broke it first. "Ya know, you two ain't nothin' like I expected."

"What do mean?" asked Hermione, grabbing another cookie and reclining back in the chair.

"By the ways 'Arry and Ron talk about ya, you'd think you two were all lovey dovey and—"

"We are," corrected Draco politely, his expression softening. "I'm afraid you've caught us at a bad time, Hagrid."

"Have a fight, 'ave ya? Yea, dose come 'n' go. You'll get over it," he said, then whispered to Hermione, "He sure looks at ya different."

She let a small smile escape, too quickly forgetting their argument back at the castle. Hermione suddenly remembered something from herbology and asked, "Hey, Hagrid, would you mind walking us into the forest? There are some healing herbs I'd like to pick."

"Well, sure, 'Mione, but what for?"

"They do well with bruises and you know how the boys get after Quidditch," she lied. It's not like she had enough information to give him an honest answer. _Oh, by the way, my boyfriend shows up with random bruises everywhere and won't tell me how he's getting them_ just didn't sound right.

He didn't buy the lie but, after tea, they set out into the forest looking for the little pink flowers hanging down a thick-trunk tree called olibanten leaves. When crushed into a paste and allowed to be absorbed into the skin, they dissolved bruises and sped up blood flow.

Draco seemed to be looking off into the forest floor before them, his attention completely off the flowers. Hermione passed her half-full basket off to Hagrid and told him to head back to the hut.

"We just need a few minutes alone," she explained sweetly, giving Hagrid's arm a gentle squeeze. "He's having a tough time."

"Don't ya wander off, now," he warned and headed back to the hut.

Hermione rushed to catch up to Draco and slipped her hand in his. She turned him around and led him back after Hagrid to the hut. Their pace was slow. This was as close to a stroll through the park as they were ever going to get given their circumstances.

"We done?" he asked.

"Yup. Picked up more than enough for any bruises you might happen to accumulate, not that I hope you get more."

He sighed and squeezed her hand. "I wish I could tell you, 'Mione, but I can't."

"Can't or won't."

"Can't."

She stopped walking and stepped before him so she could look for the lies in his gray eyes. "Like, physically can't?"

"I don't want to lie to you," he honestly answered. "But I can't tell you the truth."

"Is there anything we can do to protect you? You don't have to tell me from what."

He smirked but it didn't reach his eyes. He caressed her cheek and bent down to kiss her. Hagrid cleared his throat loudly in the distance and they got the hint to keep walking. "These flowers are good. I don't know if this whole mess will stop but the flowers are good."

They weren't sure how they'd done it but they managed to survive another fight. For a moment, it felt to Hermione like they could survive anything.

-----

They headed back to their rooms after "detention." They didn't need to walk apart because the hallways were empty and dark so he wrapped his arm around her waist as they went, careful not to bump into each other and hurt his bruises even more. They didn't bother with wand light. Draco seemed to know his way around with eyes closed. She found it a peculiar ability but she was starting to think it had something to do with the gray color of his eyes. Something told her that wasn't a natural ability. She wouldn't be surprised if Lucius gave it to his son.

He still whipped out his wand and called _Lumos_ so the sleeping Liam could see them. "Good evening, Liam. Sorry to wake you," whispered Hermione. "We'd like to get to my room please. The password is chrysanthemum."

The portrait hole swung open and they slipped inside, unnoticed. Once inside, Draco sighed as though finally safe and said, "You know, Hagrid's not so bad."

She laughed, taking off her scarf and sweater. "Told you. He's just a great big teddy bear. Now take off your clothes."

He froze and shot her a funny look. "Excuse me?"

"So I can put on the paste we made, genius."

He didn't quite believe that was the whole story because her eyes seemed to hide something devious but he did nonetheless. Ever since he and Hermione started spending nights together, he'd begun to consider whisking her off to a nudist colony in the middle of nowhere. For now, he had to settle for his no underwear policy, which she frequently disregarded.

He slid into her bed on his back, groaning as he went. She shot him a piteous look and brought the paste over to the bed, going to sit cross-legged by his side. He used to whine more before he was bitten but she just figured there was no one to listen anymore. He put his arms up over his head so she got better access to the bruises on his ribs and closed his eyes. He seemed so peaceful but the moment Hermione laid eyes on the dark blue, black, and green bruises, she grimaced. It was obvious he'd been kicked repeatedly in the ribs and hips and the back of his thighs.

"Fucking hell, Draco," she whispered, applying the bit of purple paste with her hand. She smoothed it over the bruises carefully, sweetly. Draco opened his eyes and watched her face as she did. The concentration wasn't nearly as entertaining as the look of concern. It was so nice to have someone care for him and Hermione was finding it equally as delightful to finally come first to _someone_.

He needed her and it felt amazing. Of course Harry and Ron needed her too but it wasn't the same. She didn't know why. It just wasn't. It was that look he gave her as she patched him up, a look that showed more than appreciation. It was love.

"What'cha looking at, Drakey?" she joked, smiling up at him. He slid up and rested his head on the headboard so he could lower his arms over his chest.

"Sorry. I was just thinking about first year, about the first time I saw you and I thought you were this gawky thing with bad hair and big teeth."

She scowled. "Gee. Thanks."

He quickly snapped to correct himself. "No, don't get me wrong. I was just wondering where we'd be right now if I'd never escaped and Weasley hadn't found me or if you'd said no to being Head Girl or if I'd done something all those years ago, something so unforgivable that you'd never spoken to me again."

"I would have forgiven you, Draco."

He shook his head, desperate for her to understand. "Hermione, I could have done horrible things and not thought twice. I was…"

"Awful," she finished for him, quite cheerful despite his frantic eyes. "Draco, I got over it. So can you."

He stared at her for a few moments. She ignored him and went to find some bandages to wrap up his ribs in her panty drawer. She kept them between to the vials of disinfectant and her favorite lacy bras. When she turned back, he was still staring at her, wide-eyed and pale.

"Draco, for the love of Christ! Yes, you made me cry. You were a horridly sadistic little boy but we're human! We can change. We've been over this before! Unless… you're trying to tell me something, aren't you? Or worse, you're trying to hide something from me."

He looked away and she got her answer. Something was tearing them apart and she had no idea what it was or where. She was fighting a ghost that lived inside Draco, in the past.

"I read the note from my mother," he admitted quietly, his eyes still away. The bandage slipped from her hand and she bent down to pick it up. She knew he was changing the subject but he was an expert at doing so. There was no way she could disregard his statement.

"Dammit, Draco," she whispered. "I wanted to tell you about your parents but Narcissa made us promise not to get you involved."

He waved a hand. "That's not important. Really. I'm happy for Mom. And I'm not mad that she's sending you notes. She does that to me all the time. Keep the paper and the words will change."

She realized he was changing the topic for her sake. He really wasn't angry at the note. Really?

"Then…" She gestured for him to continue.

"I need you to do me a favor."

"Tell me."

He sighed and looked to her. "I need you to take my place. I can't let my mother go alone to Azkaban. I know it's a lot to ask but I—"

"Of course," she said without a doubt in her mind. She thought maybe this was the final dividend between them but she had no clue.

His mother didn't need an escort. She could more than take care of herself. He needed Hermione out of the castle this weekend, somewhere she'd be safe while he took his revenge. He was a Slytherin and the one thing Slytherins knew above all others was how to take cold, deadly, inhumane revenge on their enemies.

-----

Draco took to making sure Hermione was distracted at all times. And, being him, he used his very capable hands to do so. They had periodic meetings in-between classes and he made sure he took every moment to his advantage. After their first meeting tore up one of the bandages, he hurried back to their room to replace it.

He'd seen her take the bandages out of the second drawer of her dresser and figured, since there wasn't much they kept from each other, it was all right to go and filch one out. As soon as he opened it, he instantly retracted his hand.

"Whoa," he whispered to himself, suddenly bombarded by the image of lace and other see-through things. To his dismay, they were all bras. Her panties were in no way impressive. There was not one thong in the mix and they were all in neutral beige, white, and black. "Gosh, 'Mione. Not even a vibrator? I'm doing you a favor, love."

He pulled them all out and laid them out on her floor. He went through to make sure he didn't miss any forbidden, secret pair. Alas, none. He pulled out his wand and, with a single swoosh of his wrist and a few well-spoken words, the offending panties caught fire before him.

He smirked and waited for them to turn to ash. He disposed of the evidence and wrote himself a note to go shopping for her next time they went to Hogsmeade.

-----

They had one day till the weekend and Narcissa had been notified of the change in plans and her new escort. Ron was not at all pleased.

"Are you fucking kidding us?" he squealed through a mouthful of toast and jam, waving his knife dangerously about. He ended up covering Ginny in butter but Harry took his time licking it off, much to everyone's distaste.

Hermione looked on, unlike the others, with wistful eyes. She looked across the room at the empty seat in the Slytherins' table where Draco once occupied. She'd never be able to lick him in public, she thought, and instantly felt her spirits drop to the floor. She pulled out her book on werewolf mating rituals and continued to read to occupy herself.

"…_Though this ability has not been confirmed by the living, some werewolves in the early 16__th__ century reported being able to sense when their mates were in danger. When one werewolf married their human partners, they were expected to turn them and thus formed a slightly more intense psychic connection than mates in the wild. These werewolves, called _arranged mates _since they were the result of arranged marriages, were the only ones who could establish this connection. According to renowned anthropologist Jasper Hufsey who has studied the bones of werewolf mates in Yugoslavia, Prague, and northern Italy, they often died when parted by death or great distance."_

Ron pushed the book closed. She had to grip the edge of the table to keep her emotions in check. If she turned in the middle of the Great Hall, it might negate all the extra effort they'd put into keeping her a secret. Ginny found it hilarious that Hermione would get mad over being torn off her book rather the angry shouting in a public place.

"'Mione, what the hell is so bloody fascinating? You still haven't answered us."

Ron noticed the gold in her eyes, the anger spreading, and instantly apologized. He flung his hands in the air in surrender, this time splattering Harry. Ginny didn't bother licking it off. Instead, she threw him her napkin and smirked devilishly. Something told Hermione they were still fighting over his frequent visits with Dumbledore. She hadn't intruded on it since her mind and heart were preoccupied with Draco.

"What was the question, Ron?"

Harry shot Ron an annoyed look and pushed him aside. "Is he making you go?" he asked.

"He asked as a favor. I agreed," she answered diplomatically, opening her book again.

Harry shrugged and said, "Then, go ahead. Just stay close to Moody and far, far away from the Dementors."

"Oh just twist the knife in my back, why don't you!" shouted Ron though he obviously wasn't as angry as he wanted to appear.

Hermione sighed and suddenly remembered her appointment with Draco. "What time is it?" she asked Harry, frantic.

"2:30. Why?"

She picked up all her books in a matter of seconds and skidded out the Great Hall. "Where's she off to now?" asked Ron, looking sullen.

"Uh… broom closet on the second floor, I'd imagine," answered Ginny with a mischievous smirk.

"What?" said Ron, furrowing his brow. "Why in the world would she—oh. Ew. Forget I asked."

-----

The broom closet wasn't exactly a broom closet. It was just an abandoned room with a mop in the corner that nobody ever used. It must have once been a classroom because there were a half dozen desks thrown about, gathering dust. Still, it was the closest meeting place to their next class. If things ran late, well, they could probably run for it and make it.

They learned from their mistakes when they arrived 15 minutes into Potions on Thursday and Slughorn made them the guinea pigs for the day's potion. Also, it raised quite a few suspicions their way which he so did not need floating around, not with his weekend plans almost in fruition.

She shut the door behind her and, her chest heaving from the run, threw her things atop the first desk she saw. Draco was waiting for her as always with tired eyes but a more than willing… heart, sitting on the edge of a black-top laboratory desk. She stormed her way across the room and slammed her lips to his, going to push back his robes.

He winced and she remembered to go slow. He'd gathered no more bruises but the last ones were still healing. He tore her hands away and jumped off the table, their lips and tongues still melding like fighting electric eels. He threw her back and lifted up her skirt, running his skilled hands along the rims.

"Off," he mumbled into her lips.

She pushed off when she realized what he was doing. "Where are you going with those?" she shouted, pushing down her skirt and jumping off the table.

He opened up the window overlooking the Quidditch field and, releasing two delicate fingers and a dangerous one-sided grin, he let them flow out into the wind.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" she screeched, pushing him almost out the window. "Those were my favorite pair!"

He laughed and sat her on his lap. "Too bad. They were _beige_ and _boring_."

"They were comfortable, you son of a bitch! I have class with Snape in five minutes!" He grinned brighter and slid his hands under her skirt, making her gasp and twitch and brace against the window frame. "You won't get away with this, you know. I'll just run up to my room and—"

"And you'll find a lovely pile of ash."

Her eyes opened wide and he knew it had nothing to do with his hand up her skirt. "You—You set my underwear on fire. Are you fucking serious?"

He didn't answer, merely continued to take in her hysterical expression. Then, just as he was going to explain that they'd go shopping before she left for Azkaban, he felt the window slide under him as her hands pushed on his aching chest. A few seconds later, he was splayed out on the bushes below, looking up at the open window in disbelief.

"I can't believe she threw me out the bloody window," he groaned to himself, trying to sit up on his uneven bed of leaves. "She threw me out the bloody window!"

Some Ravenclaws came running to help him but he was still staring up in disbelief. "Draco!" they shouted. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE THREW ME OUT THE BLOODY WINDOW!"

-----

_Ok. No more indulgence and no more chapters for at least a week. I'm working on a three-panel spacescape for my art final that's still kicking my butt. I've got to do each star one by one with very tiny brushes so you'll pardon me if I can't pause to write down some soft-core porn… no matter how much joy it brings to my life. Love you all. Do review. _

**Reviews are better than willing… hearts. Yea. That appendage. **


	24. The Death of Draco Malfoy

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: **_The Death of Draco Malfoy_

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_We're almost at 400 REVIEWS! You are all freakin' amazing. Like, crazy amazing. Like, I would send Draco Malfoy to hug you each individually if I could. But, instead, I'm just going to force feed you fillery chapters, like this one, before the weekend comes and their lives are once again flipped upside down. You _will_ find out who's been beating up Draco and where he disappeared to yesterday though, plus some other things, so it's not total filler. When is it ever with me? I am incapable of a plot-less chapter. _

_Oh and there's something fun at the end. Enjoy!_

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"What the hell happened to you? What did he do?" asked Harry. Hermione carefully pulled at her skirt so she wasn't sitting bare atop the wooden seats and took her place beside him.

Ron came in later and instantly tasted the tension in the room. "What happened?" he automatically followed. "Why are you staring at her like that?"

"She came in like she had a stick up her ass," Harry answered crudely, narrowing his eyes at her with suspicion. Ron cackled, making the teacher take five points from Gryffindor. Hermione glowered at him and slapped him across the head when the teacher turned around.

They were told to split up into groups, which allowed them more time to talk. Hermione didn't get out of her seat. When she told them she wasn't standing, they continued to glare at her and refused to do any work, not that they ever really did.

"Fine!" she gave, throwing her arms in the air in surrender. "I threw him out the window."

Her voice lowered immensely so she had to repeat it into Harry's ear as Ron snickered away. "I'm sorry…" said Harry, obviously in disbelief. "Did you say you threw him out a window?"

She nodded.

"Which floor?" asked Ron, holding onto his sides.

"Second," she said in a small voice, her cheeks pink. "He deserved it though!"

Harry continued to stare at her in disbelief. "What could he have possibly done to deserve getting thrown out a bloody window?" he hissed some time later.

Her cheeks turned full on red. "It's private. And perverse."

Ron stopped laughing. "Did he hurt you?"

She could tell he was ready to play Superman in her defense. She shook her head. "No. He didn't hurt me. It was just… rude! Just trust me. He deserved it."

"Is he okay?"

Hermione looked down with guilt at her notes. "He fell onto the bushes on the south side. I'm sure he's fine. He was yelling up at me last I saw so he's not dead."

"Not dead?!" echoed Ron. "Hermione, the man is getting beaten up into a bloody pulp every day. Not once does he fight back. And then you go and throw him out a window? Do you know how insane that sounds?"

She groaned and banged her head on the table. "I screwed up, didn't I?"

"No, we're sure he deserved it, but you really should go check up on him," offered Harry.

"I'll check on him in the infirmary," she whispered to herself. Ron and Harry shot each other worried, knowing looks.

"He wouldn't go to the infirmary," Harry told her reluctantly, avoiding her eyes. "He never goes. Pomfrey asked too many questions."

She snapped up from the table and faced him. "How would _you_ know that? Has he told you something about who's been hurting him? Is it the Gryffindors?!"

Harry gulped and looked up at Ron who shook his head as if telling Harry to keep his mouth shut. Hermione grabbed both their arms and twisted and they got the hint that she wasn't kidding around.

"It's the Slytherins," he finally answered. "With Draco outed as a werewolf, they're looking for a new leader."

"Great. We've created a power vacuum."

Ron scoffed. "There's no vacuum. There's just Blaise."

Her eyes widened. She remembered the Hogwarts Express, their conversation and the way Blaise had looked at her. She couldn't imagine that boy as the new Prince of Darkness but now that she knew Draco "intimately," she couldn't imagine him as one either.

Blaise was more secretive of his blind hatred, more sure, unlike Draco who resorted to public acts to prove his authority. He was cool and collected and his people feared him. He was… It suddenly struck her.

He was the Dark Lord's new contact inside Hogwarts.

But why hadn't Draco told her? Was her life in danger if she knew? Harry and Ron knew so the rest of the school must know. It's not like the boys were socially savvy or anything. Why did _she_ need to be kept in the dark?

"There's something we don't know," she told them, transfiguring the ink bottle in front of her with minimal effort. She declared their group finished and stormed out.

"You know," said Ron, staring off dumbly. He'd barely absorbed what had happened. "I think she's gotten more mental she started fucking Malfoy."

Harry shook his head. "She was always mental. He just brings it out in her. It's kind of nice though. Now she doesn't spend an hour trying to teach us a lesson. She just accepts that we wouldn't have figured it out anyway and gives us the answers."

"Hmm. True. All hail Malfoy! We might just pass this year yet!"

-----

"What the hell happened to you? What did she do?" asked Pansy, pulling Draco's shirt over his head. He winced, glad he didn't have to play the brave cowboy anymore. "Did she find out about us?"

He scoffed. "You mean did she find out you know about her and me? No. Stop the delusions, Pansy. There's no us."

She laughed, dabbing disinfectant on the branch scratches. He rested across his bed, shirtless and tired and covered in bruises. He didn't want to bother Hermione with it so he'd gone to Pansy yesterday before detention to get rid of the more horrific cuts.

After all, Pansy never really cared about internal house politics. She just wanted to find a wealthy, connected, ruthless husband to raise her many future children – all irksome and vile little monsters, he was sure. Draco was just the better candidate and she was convinced that Hermione was just a passing interest because of their shared lycanthropy and that she'd be back as his second in command soon enough. Since he needed her to play along, he hadn't corrected her assumptions.

He knew Hermione was no passing interest and that was all that mattered. Pansy had never been a contender.

"Then what the hell could you have done to get thrown out a window?" she blabbered on as he stared through the open bathroom doors into Hermione's empty room. He felt wrong having Pansy in his room but he needed her and his hands were nowhere on her body. Hermione was in class and he was safe from discovery.

"I deserved it," was all he said. He wasn't in the mood to explain but she kept bugging him. "Pansy… drop it."

"Fine!" she shouted and threw the bloody rag onto his bare back. "I won't be your sex slave, Draco Malfoy!"

As much as he loved hearing his name is a disapproving tone, this time he had to correct her. "Pansy, we don't have sex. Again, drop the delusional rants."

"You know what I mean! Why shouldn't Hermione find out about us?"

"There's nothing to find out about, Pansy!"

She grew instantly sad. "Then why are you so protective of the little Mudblood?" She'd said those precise words to measure his expression. His lips twitched into a momentary frown and that was all she needed to hear. "She's important to you."

"She's a werewolf like me and she knows her magic. She's useful and she would not approve of… of us." Hell, if it shut her up, he'd feed her delusions. No it still didn't sound right. It could come back to bite him in the ass later on. "Of our friendship, I mean."

"We're friends?" said Pansy, slightly hopeful. She wasn't sure why that made her feel better. It wasn't like she ever loved Draco. They both knew she didn't. But, strangely, she was happy he trusted her to help him. She didn't have people who trusted her. To her friends, she was a social-climbing bint. To her family, she was a useless trophy of moderate beauty who had yet to secure a husband. "I think that might be nice."

Draco smirked and slid his shirt back on. "Good. Does Blaise suspect you're helping me?"

Pansy gave a sharp, nasally laugh and went to sit in the chair by window, eyeing him as he dressed. "Blaise doesn't give a ruddy sickle whether I'm alive, let alone that I'm helping you. So no. He suspects nothing. It's kind of lonely without you, actually. We see you all the time but… it's like you've died."

"Like I've died? I'm right here."

She nodded, staring at this new body before her. "But you have. You're not you anymore. You're… You're _hers_. That _thing_ has changed you."

He tried to sound defensive, only clueless. "You mean Hermione?"

"Yes," she snarled. "The Granger thing. She's changed you."

Draco felt strangely satisfied to hear this from one of his former allies, from someone who had known his past self inside and out. When a Gryffindor told him he'd changed, it meant little. When a Slytherin told him he'd _died_, it meant the world to him. It was not often one was capable of honestly changing.

"She's special," he confided stupidly, a huge grin on his face.

Pansy's scowl depended, though it was not based in jealousy. It was simple hatred of their races, nothing personal. "Special?" she growled. "What is she? A horse?"

"You surely make it seem so."

"Oh yes," Pansy said, wiping her hands off on his clean, white shirt. "You've died to us, Malfoy. You're dead and buried. Keep your new equine fantasies to yourself before the bruises turn into deep, gaping gashes."

He completely ignored her threats. "That's all well and good but is everything in place for this weekend?"

She nodded, crossing her arms. "You'll get yourself killed. Or her!"

"She'll be nowhere near the castle this weekend. After then, Blaise will no longer be a problem or anyone else."

She took a step closer so she, being much shorter than him, stared straight into his lips. "They might attack right there in front of her. Even if your plan works, they'll never allow you to head the house again."

He shook his head and ran a hand through her short, black hair. It wasn't a romantic gesture. It was a gesture of their closeness. "I don't want to head the house again, dear. I just want them to get the hint."

"What bloody hint could they get out of—"

He covered her mouth with his palm and bent down so they were eye to eye. His look was menacing. Real. She had to know he was serious or else his plan might fall through. "I want them to know they can do whatever they want with the world. They can beat me, kill me, but they cannot go near those under my protection."

He pulled back his hand. "You could just tell them she's a werewolf. They'd run for the hills if they knew she was one of Voldemort's—"

He tightened the hand over her mouth again. She squealed in pain and her eyes widened. "She will have no relation to those monsters, understand? If something does happen to me, I want her to have a real life after me. She can lead a _normal_ life."

She pulled away and slapped him, honestly terrified of what he'd do to her. "Do whatever you want with your Mudblood mate, Draco. Like I said, you're dead to me. After this weekend, don't call on me again."

His death, as he always imagined, was extremely comforting. Peaceful, even.

-----

"Draco!" Hermione called, throwing her books onto her bed and running into his room. He was sitting on his bed in his blood-stained shirt. He hadn't bothered to change it. His scratches would bleed again anyway. Pansy always did a shitty job on scratches.

"Hey, love," he greeted with a catty smile. "Walk down any particularly breezy hallways? Any first years I should permanently blind?"

She smirked and sat down in bed, her back to him. "I'm sorry I threw you out a window," she mumbled like it was a commandment she had to apologize for breaking in Sunday school. _Thou shalt not throw thine boyfriends out thy window._

He leaned over, wincing at the pain, and kissed her shoulder. "You're forgiven. Are we even for the underwear bit?"

She nodded. "Though I might have to borrow some of your briefs," she joked.

He laughed and kissed her neck. His arm rounded her waist. "I'm a boxer man, 'Mione," he replied in a husky voice. "You should know that. Actually, you're welcome to wear those. I'm sure you'd look amazing."

She smacked him lightly across the back of the head. "What the hell am I going to do? We have the most sexist uniform policy in the country! All I own are skirts and we've still got class tomorrow."

He chuckled and rested his chin on her shoulder. He lifted up and nibbled at her ear. "I might have something for you."

She snapped around and he landed face first into bed beside her. "I am _not_ wearing your ex-girlfriends' leftover panties, Draco!"

He shot her a look from the edge of the bed. He rolled over onto his back like a puppy wanting to be scratched. "Why don't you just go check your cabinet?"

She ran through the bathroom into her room, at the half-open drawer waiting ominously for her. She hesitated before opening it completely, revealing the new collection of green and silver lace knickers. They were in a variety of cuts – bikini, thong, boy-shorts – and matching sets of bras.

"Are you kidding me?" she whispered, staring in awe.

He, of course, heard every word and was already leaning up against the frame of the door, watching her as he often did. "I had them owled in after my little experiment with gravity this afternoon. I wanted to take you shopping this weekend but you didn't let me get a word in before my ass met bush two floors below. They arrived fifteen minutes ago."

She took in a deep breath and lamely uttered, "They're lovely. Thank you."

He got the lack of enthusiasm in her voice and desperately wished to be back in bed, laughing as they'd been.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked timidly.

"No, they're lovely. Really. Lacy and all that. Cute."

He scoffed. "What, are you kidding? A deaf mute wouldn't buy that excuse. I haven't heard you sound so 'enthusiastic' since Hagrid told us fourth year that we'd be studying the appearance of boils on elderly mer-people's tails."

She smiled but her eyes didn't shine they way he liked. Luckily, he knew what buttons to push. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, spinning her so she'd face him. "I just… don't like things being chosen for me. Get me? I like to be included in the decision-making."

He swallowed. Hard. He was about to make a power move that would endanger both their lives and he had told her nothing. He felt vile. "I'm sorry," he began but put on a large, fake smile. He needed her distracted so he called up his Malfoy charm. "How about you try them on for me?"

She laughed and rolled her eyes, pushing him away. "Down doggy and I'll give you a biscuit."

"Promise?" He twitched an eyebrow. She ignored him, slipped on the first pair she saw, and headed for the door, her step tired and slow. "Where are you going?

She swung around and glared, a bit disappointed that he hadn't yet told her about Blaise. "Dinner. It's time for—"

"Go ahead. I think I'll go down today."

She froze. "Is that safe?"

With an eerily cheery smile, he replied, "Nope."

-----

She went downstairs, her mind abuzz. She knew Draco was up to something. She'd heard no real hint of danger or worry in his voice, but she _knew_. She felt him pace upstairs and she knew his mind was shouting something. She felt his worry.

She sat down between Ron and Ginny and took a deep breath before starting to eat. Ginny shot Harry a knowing look. "You alright, 'Mione?"

"Yup," she lied, humorless. "I'm a rose pedal in the wind, Gin. Nothing can touch me."

Nobody laughed. She took a bit of chicken and realized that the entire hall had fallen silent. She went to ask what was going on but she didn't need to. She felt it, felt _him_. She followed everyone's line of sight towards the main entrance. Draco had just walked in, his smirk confident and alluring. Everyone stared but his eyes were focused on the Gryffindor table.

She tried to tear her eyes away from his poised step but it was impossible. He was walking straight towards her, his smirk fixed on her. "What the hell is he doing?" she hissed towards Ginny, her eyes still locked on his.

"I think I saw this in a movie," Ginny hissed back dramatically.

When she turned back to face Draco, he was mere feet from her and looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on. She couldn't help herself. She stood, her eyes wide and hands clammy.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked him, leaning in to whisper angrily. His hands remained in his trouser pockets. She noticed he wasn't wearing his usual uniform. He hadn't changed his shirt so it still had bloody handprints down the front and arm. But none of it mattered because he was looking at her like she was the only person in the whole room.

A second felt like forever. He outstretched his hand and caressed her cheek lovingly, they way he did when they were alone. "I'm sorry," he whispered but his eyes showed no apology.

He cupped her face with gentle hands and lowered his lips to hers, kissing her sweetly yet passionately. She didn't try to fight it. Her body went limp under his touch, so much so that he had to wrap one hand around her waist to keep her from falling down. People were gasping around them but she didn't care. They seemed distant, disembodied.

When he pulled away, he let out a long sigh and whispered, "I'm sorry… but it's begun."

-----

And now, ladies and… well, ladies! Welcome to the first ever chapter of **Guess that Plot Twist**! Care to play? I simply spout out a plot question and you guess the answer. And, if you guess right, I'll post your names in the next part and reply with a hint to upcoming chapters. I have over 10 chapters planned out till the end so you'll have plenty of time to guess right.

**THIS CHAPTER'S QUESTION:** _How will kissing Hermione bring down the power struggle inside Slytherin House?_

-----

**Reviews are better than breezy hallways. **


	25. Calm Before the Storm

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: **_Calm Before the Storm_

-----

_Ha! Nobody guessed right. You got close. You kind of got that Voldemort and Blaise and the houses would be involved but nobody got it all in one. Sorry. No dice. Keep trying though! This chapter's question should prove a little more straightforward. Enjoy!_

-----

"Draco Malfoy, what the fuck has gotten into you? Is this a joke?" she hissed, pushing him back. He laughed and looked around, wiping his bottom lip. The entire hall was looking at them. Hermione spun around and looked up at the teacher's desk. Half weren't there but Dumbledore was watching intently, his pale blue eyes moving from Draco to the Slytherins and back again. She looked down at Harry and Ron and Gin but they were avoiding her eyes like she had a scarlet A burned into her forehead.

A second had passed but it didn't matter. Her world was collapsing around her. "I'm sorry. I had to do it," he said again, pleading her understanding.

She laughed and pulled him in by the collar so only he could hear. From across the room, it would have looked like a romantic gesture but they couldn't see the fury in her eyes or the drawling anger in her words.

"Does this have something to do with Blaise Zabini and that monstrous bruise you're trying to hide behind half-assed charms?" she whispered into his cheek.

He kissed her cheek and nodded, caressing her jaw with his nose. Damn him. She loved that spot, and the anxiety of being watched so closely only heightened the sensation.

"Will you promise you'll explain this to me later on?" He nodded again and licked the spot near her mouth. "Fine. Do your thing. Make your fucking point."

At that, he laughed harder and dipped her back, kissing her even more passionately. One arm fell limply by her side under the weight of his lips' caress. Then, someone cleared their throat behind Draco and they broke the kiss. Chatter resumed all over though Hermione was sure it was about them. Ron tried to pass off something about Quidditch but it didn't work off that well. His voice came out loud and squeaky and he snuck a peak up over his shoulder.

Filch was standing just behind Draco, his arms crossed. "What's the matter with you two?" said Argus. "People are _eating_. They don't want to see you two slobbering all over each other. Sit down!"

And he continued on towards the teacher's section to whisper something in Dumbledore's ear. If he hadn't come on urgent business, Hermione was sure they would have been sent to detention. She looked around sheepishly. There was no space for both of them at either table – despite the empty seats – so Hermione took a quick drink of her juice and intertwined her hand with his before pulling them both out the door. It felt strangely amazing like they were walking back from some sort of altar, the eyes of the world on their backs.

She squeezed his hand particularly hard, proud to finally be able to do it in public. Once in the empty hallway, Hermione finally let out a deep breath and leaned against the wall.

"You are _crazy_! We could have gotten into serious trouble!" she said with a laugh. She was on the verge of hysterical giggles, bending forward onto her knees. "Why am I laughing? That was horrible!"

He watched her the way he did when she slept, with curiosity and overflowing love. "Relief, I'd imagine."

"Oh god, we don't have to hide anymore, do we?" she replied with a bright smile. Realization wiped out her expression. "They're going to kill us, aren't they?"

He scoffed. "No, babe. Not you. Slytherins know not to kill Potter and you're under his protection. Potter and Weasley promised to look after you."

"Ron and Harry? Why? Won't you?"

He'd let too much slip and mentally kicked himself in the shin. He changed the subject quickly, twitching an eyebrow playfully. "Don't worry about it. Come on. I know a great little place we can finish off that kiss."

She shot him a reprehensive smirk and reached out for his hand. They didn't move. She took her time playing with their intertwined hands. He was so much paler than her, so much more sickly-looking. The bruises stood out on his skin more than anybody she'd ever seen, even Harry who lived in a cupboard most of his life. She hadn't noticed the gray seeping through his skin before as though his blood was a different color. Everything about him was coming into view as though a cloud had moved out of the way of the sun and she was seeing their relationship the way the others saw it. Clearly.

All this time, she had kept him in reserve, a runaway fantasy that she could call upon when horny or lonely… which was pretty often. Now that the world knew—that they had _seen_—she couldn't divide her lives anymore. Draco was too important to her to keep him in a little corner of her mind. She just wished she didn't have the weight of their judging eyes and devastating gasps coming down atop her memory every time she closed her eyes.

Draco was always a bit of a pariah for his affiliations to the Dark Lord. She was always so golden in everyone's eyes. She had been the girl who befriended Harry Potter, the brightest witch of her age. Now what? Was she Draco's girlfriend? Was she the traitor who fell for a demon in sheep's clothing? Or was she just another rebellious teenager getting her rocks off with the local bad boy, sans the leather?

She felt strangely… _disgusted,_ yet proud of herself at the same time.

"I told you I like to be included in the decisions," she scolded lightly, feeling the need to argue and fight. She quickly calmed herself and her eyes fluttered close again. The halls were silent and Draco was near. She didn't need anything more. "But this is kind of nice. Just give me a second?"

He nodded and leaned his forehead to hers. "You can have two."

-----

They left the hallway before the Great Hall started to empty. Everyone seemed to linger a bit longer, animatedly talking amongst themselves. She doubted many people ate after their little fiasco but Filch would start kicking them out soon. She realized on the way back that she hadn't let go of Draco's hand all night, not even before Liam. Something told her if she did, she'd never see him again.

"Hello, dears!" the boy greeted, standing erect from his rocking chair. "What can I help you with today?"

Draco smiled and bowed slightly, as was custom among higher society. Hermione just found it incredibly tedious and instructed the boy, "_Pimpernel_. My room, please."

The door swung open and before it could fully close, Draco lifted Hermione up by the waist facing him. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his torso, her arms around his neck. "Draco, put me down!" she hissed.

He smirked madly. If he was never going to see her again, he wanted the night to be special but she would have nothing to do with it. After all, she didn't know the finality of tonight. She let him have his kiss and his caresses but her mind was ablaze with implications and possibilities. Not only was she seeing their relationship clearly, she had a chance to start completely over. She'd get to see every part of him now, even the ugly public one.

Draco just wanted to clear his mind, not dwell on the impossibility of his plan. "Dammit, woman!" he shouted finally, falling on his side onto the bed. "Entertain me!"

She rolled her eyes and went to take off her sweater. His smile brightened and she instantly turned her back on him. "Stop being a jerk, Draco. I should be bloody pissed at you! Do you know the kind of attention you've brought to us? It wasn't just two people kissing in the Great Hall today, Draco. It's rare a day you don't see that. It was a _Gryffindor_ and a _Slytherin_. The best friend of Harry Potter and his arch nemesis! You might as well have put fire and gasoline in the same room just to watch the light show!"

He didn't listen to a word she was saying because she was standing before him in her bra, not a care in the world as she argued. Despite it all, time had passed and she was completely at ease before him. It made him feel at home in her bed, yet again.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he lied, extending an arm for her to join him in bed. "When I'm with you, everything else melts away."

She sighed and let her hands fall from her waist, limp and tired of fighting. "Stop trying to change the subject, Draco. And I'm not in the mood so you might as well stop the charm. I didn't even get to finish my dinner and Neville was about to tell me—oh god, who am I kidding? I don't give a rat's ass what Neville had to say."

He laughed and kicked off his shoes, resting his arms up behind his head as a pillow. "Nobody does, love. Don't feel bad."

She shot him a look and continued to blabber on about nothing at all. She was trying to avoid the obvious question about Blaise and the Slytherins and the real reason for the kiss. She knew he didn't want to tell her and he had his reasons.

He understood the cause of her babbling explicitly, possibly better than Harry and Ron ever could. For a selfish prick, Draco could really pay attention to the details. "You can stop Hermione," he told her softly, his eyes loving. "We don't have to talk. You can relax and sit down, lie down. Up to you. Okay?"

She gulped and slid out of her skirt. It pooled at her ankles for some time, waiting for her to move. He smirked at the sight of the green and silver panties. It was as good as a chastity belt, he thought, an instant reminder to anyone who dared take advantage of her that she was his. Always.

"Really?" she whispered timidly. "Can we just… do our homework the way I like?"

He nodded and scooted over so she could climb in bed next to him. He picked up the books from the floor next to the nightstand and spread them out on the comforter. He pulled out the piece of parchment and quill she usually kept under her bed and gestured for her to lie down. She laughed and slid into bed onto her back. She rested her head across his chest and read the night away as he stroked her hair and waited for the war to begin.

-----

Hermione woke up alone, which was truly torturous. There was a good minute of worry there before she found the note rested atop her book.

It read, simply:

_I decided to get those scratches treated after all. My mother will be picking you up around 5:00 tonight in Dumbledore's office so I'll be taking over the meeting with the Prefects again. Mother doesn't know we practically live together so you might want to keep that to yourself. She's sort of traditional when it comes to that stuff. Also, wear something warm. Azkaban is fucking cold._

_I love you._

_See you when you return. _

She smirked to herself before crumbling up the note. She knew he had to return to the room later today, even if she couldn't be there to greet him, so she unrolled some parchment and began to write her own little note.

_Draco,_

_You condescending bastard. You and I both know you wouldn't go to Pomfrey if your pants were literally on fire, not unless you could bring down half the school along with you. Also, how is it your mother doesn't mind that she's caught us kissing, knows we've slept together, and yet objects to us living next door? You didn't even say goodbye in person! Fine. Have it your way. Just remember to check your drawers tonight. Enjoy. _

_Love you, baby._

_Hermione._

She folded the note and rested it on his pillow lovingly. His bed was still made, perfectly. For a guy, he was eerie careful about his linens. She moved to the underwear drawer. Knowing him, he probably had it locked. Alas, no. She opened it easily, finding a wide variety of boxers and briefs. The boxers outnumbered the briefs and she'd grown quite tired of all the green, blue, black, and gray plaid. There was no red anywhere, no gold.

She smirked devilishly and reached for his wand off from under his pillow. She didn't understand why he didn't like carrying it around with him. He said it had something do with creases on his trousers and the size of his package but she'd zoned out after that. It was of course ridiculous because his pockets expanded infinitely. The only thing he carried around like a safety blanket was that blasted orb.

Deciding she wasn't going to take his ridiculous eccentricities over her comfortable normality, she whipped his wand through the air and transfigured every boxer and brief in his armoire into Gryffindor colors… then shrunk them down a size.

Extremely proud of herself, she threw the wand on the bed and went to get ready for class. Despite her mission later tonight, she wore a smile all day as she imagined his face later that night.

-----

"I appreciate you coming to meet me so early, Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore, sliding a plate of wrapped candies across his table towards a very sour-looking Draco. "But given your 'show' yesterday, it was necessary I speak with you as soon as possible."

Draco nodded once, grabbed one of the peppermint swirls, and slid down a little in the big armchair before the headmaster's desk. "Doesn't matter. I'd hoped to say goodbye to her but it's fine. Thanks for giving us the night anyway."

"Well… that wasn't intentional," he replied with a cocked, white eyebrow. "You know my objection to your current sleeping arrangement, not that it hasn't happened before."

Draco rolled his eyes. Half a year ago, if he'd been Dumbledore, he would have swept Hermione to the other side of the castle before letting himself get too close. Now, if they were parted it'd only make his heart ache more. "Don't worry, professor. I meant I got to watch her study one last time. That's all I needed. I wanted to remember her in her element."

Dumbledore nodded, knowingly. He fought back a small smile. "We will not let you be harmed, Draco. I promise you. This plan will work."

"It better," said Draco in a disturbingly quiet voice. There should have been fear in his eyes but there was only an eerie peace. "If it doesn't, Hogwarts will come under attack. It's not just about us anymore, professor. It's about saving the school. It's about saving Potter."

Dumbledore ignored the slight hostility at the mention of Harry. "Then, I am sorry. I have asked too much of you."

"I'm the idiot who came up with this. I'm the idiot who agreed to be the bait. I knew they'd think I was selling secrets if they thought I was sleeping with the enemy. Well, I am but I don't really have anymore to tell that you don't already know."

Dumbledore had nothing more to say on the plan. It was true that it was difficult to imagine Draco coming back from this. He just thanked him and wished him well and secretly prayed to God that Moody was fast enough when the time came.

-----

Draco didn't go to class that day. He went to Pomfrey after all. It was safer than his room and nobody would expect him to go. She had been let in on Draco's new allegiances after Draco's display of affection in the Great Hall the night before. It caused a sudden change in her permanently sour expression. She seemed… piteous? Draco wasn't sure. It could have been gas.

"Mr. Malfoy," she scolded lightly. She had a general rule that everyone who walked into her infirmary was broken because they were either stupid or reckless. Draco, however, had his very viable excuses this time. "Are these bruises consistent with a fall? Did you slip off your broom?"

He chuckled softly. He sat shirtless on one of the beds, staring emptily at his hands on his lap. The only other patient was a Ravenclaw who had messed up a potion in Slughorn's class and was now a peculiar shade of orange.

"No, ma'am. Not a broom. A window."

"How the bloody hell did you fall out a window?" she asked.

"Jilted lover, I'm afraid."

Pomfrey actually laughed, wholeheartedly. She knew he was talking about Hermione and the thought of her mousy self committing any act of violence at all was hilarious. Draco winced as she jabbed him with a piece of gauze by mistake. "I'm sorry, dear. I just can't believe she threw you out a bloody window."

Despite his worries, her laughter was a little contagious. "I know! Right?! All I did was set her underwear drawer on fire."

The laughter came to an abrupt stop. "Child, are you serious?" He nodded, still smirking like a Cheshire cat. She stared at him for a moment then slapped him across the head, much like Snape. "Are you insane? You never mess with a woman's underwear drawer, son!"

After that, she stopped being so gentle with her dabbing – or rather, stabbing – motions.

-----

Throughout the day, Hermione got some serious looks. Some lips were downturned with disgust (those were mostly Slytherins) and other laughed or giggled at the very sight of her (those were mostly girls). Perhaps the strangest of looks came from some of the boys. Apparently, if she was open to making out with a Slytherin, especially Draco of all people, she was open to anything.

_Dear Lord, do I look like a kink to them because I'd shag Draco? Does his father's desk count as kinky?_

She went on about her day as Draco intended her to. She came back to the room one last time to gather her coat and another note waiting for her. He'd come back, thank God. She was terrified that something or someone would catch up with him before she left but she knew she had to do her part and follow the plan. She couldn't risk interfering and making everything worse.

She slid into the coat and pocketed the note, too late to stop to read it and write another. If he saw she'd taken it, he'd know she'd been there looking for him and maybe feel a little bit better. She ran out, trying to make it to the office on time. She didn't want to keep her boyfriend's mother waiting. As much as Narcissa liked her, she didn't seem like a woman who liked to be kept waiting.

As she rounded the corner, she ran knee first into a pale little figure dressed in Hogwarts black, throwing them both onto the group. "I'm sorry! My fault! I wasn't looking," she said, not really seeing who she'd hit. Just as she dusted herself off and prepared to run off again, the figure clutched her arm and held her in place.

Hermione turned around and saw the face of a tearful Pansy Parkinson, looking sleep-deprived. "Do you have a minute?" she whispered, her eyes pleading silently up at Hermione.

She looked around to see if the coast was clear before agreeing. The poor girl's eyes didn't warrant heartlessness, not that Hermione was very capable of being heartless. "What do you need, Pansy?"

-----

**THIS CHAPTER'S QUESTION:** _What will Lucius tell Hermione that leads to an M-rated scene in upcoming chapters?_

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**Reviews are better than jilted lovers.  
**Let's make this story epic! It's still got at least 10 more chapters in it. Let's see if we can beat 500 reviews! Woot!


	26. To Azkaban

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: **_To Azkaban_

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_You are all so fantastic. I know! I've said it before! But you guys just keep reminding me all the reasons why. Thank you so much for your critiques and your wonderful affirmations. You make my day, my week, my year… I read every single review and reply to those important questions so if you're confused, I'd be happy to clear up a few things. Also, if you catch a really big error (not those silly little grammatical ones I make consistently) then PLEASE let me know. _

_Love you dearly.  
__-Grace. _

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"I know you're going to Azkaban with his mother," she said softly, lifting herself up off the floor. Her hands gripped Hermione's arm, holding her in place as if afraid she'd run away. "It's okay. He just told me. I've been helping him hide the bruises from you. I know I've never done anything to deserve a favor and you're welcome to ignore me but I—"

Hermione didn't have time for this. Though she didn't like that Draco had felt the need to hide the bruises from her, he obviously trusted Pansy. And thus, Hermione felt she could too. She waved her hand, gesturing Pansy to stop. "If he trusts you enough to confide in you, I guess I do owe you, Pansy. He doesn't have many friends left. Just tell me what you need."

Pansy's eyes widened. "Geez, you really do trust him, don't you? If I'd heard my boyfriend was hiding _anything_ from me, I'd freak."

"I trust Draco to hide only the necessary," she growled, impatient. "Now, what do you want?"

Pansy cleared her throat and straightened up. "My stepbrother was captured by the Aurors a few years ago. My family has long been involved with You-Know-Who but they disowned him for getting caught. I haven't seen him since. When his mother died, we became sort of close. Could you maybe tell him I miss him? That I'm trying to work on an appeal?"

"An appeal? How could you possibly get that without your family?"

She shrugged half-heartedly. "Draco. He keeps his promises. I just worry that—"

"I know!" she shouted, raising a hand between them. "He's up to something dangerous and ridiculous and most likely putting himself at risk. He hasn't told me exactly what for a reason. I'm already walking into a jail run by bloody freakin' _Dementors_ for him. I don't need to spend the whole weekend worrying about him more than usual."

Pansy nodded and finished. "My brother's name is James. I don't know how much of him is left intact but I'll take anything, any bit of news. Please."

Hermione nodded and took Pansy's hand for a reassuring minute. "I'll do what I can, okay?"

Pansy smiled but it felt false, her brow furrowed. It was sickening what this stupid war and these stupid sides had brought them to. Pansy would never in a million years have asked Hermione for anything except to step aside and go to hell. How times had changed. It made Hermione a little more hopeful. Maybe there'd be a place for cooperation after _this_ war.

"One more thing!" Pansy shouted before Hermione could leave. She took out a small, familiar blue velvet box from her robes. "He wants you to wear this."

-----

"I'm sorry I'm late," said Hermione, skidding into the headmaster's office. She wrapped the coat around her protectively, feeling the visitors' eyes crawling all over her. "I was… detained."

Narcissa granted her a welcome smile, especially at seeing the Malfoy signet ring on her left middle finger. She knew what the ring meant to Draco, and to Lucius. "It's fine, Hermione. Albus and I were just having a parent-teacher meeting, you might say."

Hermione scoffed. "Yes, I'm sorry to report that Draco has yet to master gravity. He seems to be way in over his head. Again."

Narcissa eyed her curiously then shifted her sight to Moody who rested on his staff in the corner. Hermione hadn't really paid attention to him since he didn't move, merely watched, ready to jump at the sight of any danger. She wondered if he _ever_ sat.

Narcissa stood up off the armchair and folded her hands before her, her stance practically screaming royalty. She wore navy blue robes over a black dress with a plunging neckline and the most delicate-looking black shoes Hermione had ever seen. "Are you ready, dear? Tonks is waiting for us downstairs. She's in no hurry but I do hate to keep her waiting."

"Tonks? Is Mr. Moody not coming as well?"

Moody took a step forward. "I still have some business here. I've been invited to stay the weekend," the former Auror said. Nobody, not even Moody himself, believed his words.

Hermione wasn't an idiot. What possible reason could he have to stay? She cleared her throat and straightened up. "Take good care of him, sir. He means a great deal to a lot of us."

Moody gave a slow nod, knowing exactly whom she meant. Hermione thought she heard the bolts in his neck squeak. Narcissa turned back to him and gave him a loving look goodbye before leading Hermione out the door, leading Alastor and Albus alone with their plans.

They made their way downstairs where Tonks waited, surrounded by boys. She seemed horribly bored and leaning against something invisible. As soon as she saw Hermione, her face lit up and she ran to hug her. Hermione laughed and returned the hug. Tonks was maybe her favorite Auror. The others weren't as cuddly and colorful.

"Hermione, dear! How are you? How's Draco?" she asked enthusiastically as she opened an invisible door and gestured towards the invisible steps leading into the invisible carriage. Hermione took her seat beside Narcissa and instantly looked outside. The sun would set soon, sending out beautiful October colors as it went.

Hermione relaxed, sitting back in the carriage. She told herself she was not going to worry about Draco. If she was needed, he would have told her. With a large sigh, she answered, "He's being an idiot, as always. How's Professor Lupin?"

Tonks' face and hair went bright red. She giggled and stepped into the carriage after them effortlessly. It went quiet for a moment before Narcissa added, "Isn't anyone going to ask how my love life is?"

Hermione snapped to face her. The carriage jerked as the invisible horses began to move into the countryside. "Oh! I'm sorry! I just figured since you told me you were getting a divorce…"

Tonks squealed and bobbed up and down in her seat. "Does she know?" she asked Narcissa.

Hermione looked from Narcissa to Tonks and back again. "Can someone let me in on the joke?"

"It's no joke!" exalted Tonks. "It's a marvelous thing! I thought he was _never_ going to find someone, which really is a shame since he's secretly such a sweetheart."

Narcissa agreed, a bright smile on her beautiful face. Hermione opened her eyes wide, putting two and two together. "Are you talking about—Moody?! Seriously?" Everyone went silent, eyeing Hermione's reaction. Narcissa raised her eyebrows, gesturing for her to give her opinion. "I think that's bloody fabulous. I mean, we all sort of suspected but damn! Draco… Draco cannot find out about this."

Even Narcissa laughed. Her laughter had a strange musical quality like a piano that's been taken out of storage for the first time in years. It squeaked a little, uncertain of its power, but lovely nonetheless.

"We know. I didn't want to tell you out front since I didn't know how you'd respond but, well, Tonks is a force of nature. You can't stop her," Narcissa explained. She let out her own squeal and squeezed Hermione's bare knee. "I'm so happy you approve. It means a great deal to me."

Hermione found this highly unlikely. "Uh… really? My opinion?"

"You're our savior, dear. Draco's guardian angel and my personal rescuer. Of course we care. I don't think I've ever been closer to my son than since you walked into our lives."

She'd gone from being the frizzy MudBlood to Narcissa Malfoy's own personal rescuer. Well… it's not like her parents could say she wasn't going anywhere. "Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. That's very kind of you to say."

Tonks laughed. "She _hates_ being called that, hon."

Indeed, Narcissa was scowling with annoyance. "My name was not my choice. Even poor Draco's. I wanted to call him Henry."

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or… no, she just laughed. "I can't imagine him being a Henry."

"It was my father's insistence. Something about naming people in my family after constellations. They're all wacked out of their minds, if you ask me. Just look at poor Tonks here. Nymphadora? Seriously?"

Hermione was bent forward, holding onto her sides. The carriage jerked and Hermione looked outside. The ground was about a mile below them. She screamed, shut her eyes, and held onto the edge of the seat for dear life.

"Oh God. Oh God. Oh God!" she mumbled. "I _hate_ flying. I. Hate. Flying."

Narcissa patted her on the back. "Good luck with that one, sweetheart. Draco spends 90 percent of his time at home in the sky. If you ever want to have a meaningful conversation with him, you're going to have to learn how to wield a broom like a pro. He wouldn't even listen to me until I started doing barrel rolls in my free time."

"Flippin' great," she grumbled sarcastically, tucking her head between her knees. She was somewhat glad she'd skipped lunch.

-----

"You're scary when you're this chipper," whispered Harry to Draco, handing him the potion.

Draco smirked devilishly and held up the vial of gray potion up to the light in the girls' room. "Did you follow my guidelines? Just as I wrote them?"

"Yes, Malfoy. Geez, you're worse than Snape. You're both so creepy about your potions."

He shook his head. "I enjoy precision in all aspects of my life, Potter, not just my potions." Harry rolled his eyes and downed Draco's potion. "You better not bloody kill us for real."

Draco laughed and, before he could take his final breath, their bodies collapsed to the floor. But, they did not lose consciousness. Their spirits remained standing where they'd been, fully clothed and holding the potion vials.

"Holy fuck!" hissed Harry. "It worked! We astral-projected."

"I saw You-Know-Who do it once and always wanted to try it. I don't think he uses a potion though. If he does, it's being fed straight into his veins," Draco joked. He stared at the vial in his hands until, without moving his long, delicate fingers, the vial slipped right through him as though he were a ghost. "If we focus, it'll work. We should be able to walk through walls though. We're basically non-see-through ghosts."

Harry nodded and focused on the vial, his brow creased dangerously. After a good minute of staring, the vial fell from his fingers. "Shit."

"As projections, it is our natural state to be transparent with no physical body. It is our human mind that cannot fathom such a state. Because you think the vial is real, it is. If you accept that you are not real, you can move through anything."

Harry's lips slowly curled up into a smile, looking with disbelief at Draco's projection. "You sound like her, you know that?"

Draco gave a sharp laugh, almost a scoff. "Like who? Hermione?"

Harry smiled brighter. "It's bloody eerie, actually. I wonder if that's how you always sound and you're just perfect for her or if she's really changed you so much. Hell, I've known her intimately for six years and I don't talk like that."

Draco's smile vanished quickly. "Maybe it's both. I don't know." Harry got the hint not to mention her again. "Ready?"

Without another word, they walked right through the wall of the girls' bathroom into the empty hallway. There was nobody around this late. They made sure to walk where they'd marked. He and Harry had met often to plan this. Every precious moment they had away from Hermione and Ginny and Ron, they spent it planning this out on the Quidditch field, high above the wandering ears of the feuding houses.

"We have to stick to the lines on the map," whispered Draco.

"I know. I know. We're drawing out the fish. But what if they don't come tonight? What if they're still waiting for the attack order from Voldemort?"

Draco shook his head as they rounded the corner. "Then we have all weekend. We just keep walking toward the Room of Requirement. Sooner of later, Blaise is going to make his move and we're going to be ready."

"We still don't know if the Killing Curse will pass through us. I mean—"

"Potter, shut up and pretend to be happy. If they think we're chummy and an imminent threat, they'll attack faster."

"What, are you going to kiss me like you did 'Mione."

Draco laughed. "Trust me. You're not my type. So… tell me about Hermione when she was little."

"You were here."

"Tell the shit I don't know. Like, she doesn't talk about her family much, just you guys."

"That's because we're her family most of the year. I mean, she loves her parents. They're great people and she's their baby girl but Hermione was never meant to be just that," Harry tried to explain as they walked through a crowd of Ravenclaws, all of whom quieted instantly as they passed side by side. He had to lower his voice to a whisper to evade their ears. "She's like our mother here, always taking care of us. I don't think I've ever trusted anyone more. Ginny, Ron, Neville… are all great but when it comes to coming up with crazy shit like we're pulling now, I trust Hermione."

As happy as he was to finally have time to get to know the details of the woman he loved from an outside observer, he didn't like what he was hearing. He would never want Hermione involved in shit like this. He had an overwhelming urge to kidnap her to a cottage in the country where no one had ever heard of magic or Dark Lords, where wands were just twigs on the ground and no one cared if you levitated over your bed because you've had a bad dream.

He wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to be safe, even if meant leaving her life entirely and taking all his problems along with him.

-----

Hermione was escorted off the carriage by two burly men with holstered wands and – for the first time since she was introduced to the wizarding world – guns. Large ones. She didn't feel safe at all but what could she expect. It was a prison. It looked a bit more like a fortress than a prison but it was essentially the same.

She kept her eyes closed during the long walk through the cells. They were made up of three stone walls and one singular row of bars that seemed endless, connecting one cell to the next. She held Narcissa's hand tightly as they neared Lucius' cell. All the prisoners looked the same under the thick beards and filthy striped uniforms.

Except Lucius. He looked scruffier, yes, but his piercing eyes showed no change. He was still a stuck-up bastard, even from within his prison cell. His hair was impossibly longer, almost as long as Dumbledore's, and pale white. There was soot on his face but he certainly had the tidiest cell around.

Narcissa called his name and he stood from his little cement bench. As soon as he saw Narcissa, his eyes softened. "You're alive," he whispered. "Is Draco?"

She nodded but the dread and fear etched into her face only made Hermione feel terribly small. They weren't talking anymore and everything started to get tenser. Lucius finally tore his piercing eyes from his wife's onto Hermione's little frame still dressed in Hogwarts robes. And, most importantly, the Malfoy signet ring.

When he saw it, his eyes looked like they were going to burst out of his head. He rushed from the back of the cell to the bars, reaching out to snatch Hermione's free hand. Narcissa let go of her completely. She knew Lucius could do nothing to harm her – they both did – and yet, she screamed.

"You?" he growled. "A MudBlood? He picked _you_?"

Hermione gulped and gathered her courage. "I don't really think either of us had a choice."

"Tell me of him. Is he well?" There was something frantic about his eyes as though he knew what Draco had become. "Is he—"

"He is alive and happy."

Lucius shook his head as though this was utterly unimportant. "Is he one of them? Did he get bitten?"

Hermione gulped, feeling strangely defensive of her connection to Draco, and answered, "Yes. We were bitten."

Suddenly, a flash of realization softened his grip on her wrist and Hermione backed up towards Narcissa. "No no. You silly child. You let him bite you, didn't you? Filth begets filth, doesn't it?" he sneered. Hermione remembered the poor boy she had met in first year, the blond devil who made her cry. She understood now what he fought with every day not to be. When he went to touch her even, he remembered the creature he was spawned from and all he was taught.

Hate is taught. And Lucius was the greatest teacher a lonely, susceptible little boy could have.

Hermione would not let this man destroy the wonderful boy she loved. She would not let his constant reminder weaken what they had spent so long building. "He is not filth, Lucius Malfoy. He is your son. He is brave and loyal and risked his life not only for me but for his mother. He is not a monster and neither am I. You, sir, are the monster. You are the vile cancer that keeps pulling him back into this world of lies and pain and betrayal. You make me sick. And you make me damn proud because Draco went beyond you. You did not win. You will never win. He is free of you, of your influence. Forever."

Lucius chuckled softly but it was laced with fear. His eyes were wide and receptive. He listened. He understood. For once in his life, he was alone. He turned from Hermione to Narcissa, his eyes pleading as he gripped the cell bars.

"You are abandoning me, aren't you?" he asked. Hermione realized that he seldom asked a question he didn't already know the answer to. It made her wonder just how much he knew.

Narcissa nodded. "I've filed for divorce, Lucius. Expect the papers any day. That is, if they make it on time."

"On time?"

Hermione looked up at Narcissa, who smirked knowingly. "The artifacts found in the tunnels of Malfoy Manor were more than enough evidence to convict you, along with my testimony. They're not giving you a trial. The evidence cannot be disputed. In two weeks, you have been scheduled to receive the Dementors' Kiss."

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_No more updates for a few days since I'm alternating my time between this story, _City of Ink_, and a new Twilight piece I'm working on titled _To Know You_. Not to mention taking care of my mother who's going through her second round of chemo. Most of these chapters are written by her bedside at 1:00 in the morning so be sure to thank her as well for all the extra, sleepless time to write. _

_Also, if you want to make sure you keep up with all updates, add me to your story or author alert list or you'll just have to check this site regularly. You never know what time of day I'll post. Lol. Why is it I have yet to meet a writer with a normal sleep cycle?_

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**THIS CHAPTER'S QUESTION:** _How will Draco take the news of Moody and Narcissa's blossoming romance?_

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**Reviews are better than having your boyfriend's bitter ex owe you one. **


	27. New Allies

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: **_New Allies_

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_Thank you so much to j2poet for the absolutely amazing landmark 450__th__ review. I was absolutely ecstatic to read it and to be able to talk about plot for once. This is the continuation of Hermione's trip to Azkaban alongside Narcissa as well as Draco and Harry's bait walk around Hogwarts. It gets pretty hilarious at one point, even if it's not exactly my favorite chapter. They won't be reunited for a bit but it will be the last time they're at Azkaban. Enjoy!_

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"How long can we be in astral form?" asked Harry. "We're not just going to leave our bodies on the floor of a broom closet all night, right?"

Draco shrugged and kicked an old can that'd been left in the hallway. The night was almost over and he realized he hadn't really thought his plan through.

"If we go to bed in our real bodies, they'll kill us," he added, his voice more strained. "I don't know about your place but the Gryffindor common room has the security of a midnight pub."

Draco nodded, still thinking it over as they rounded the now empty hallways back to the closet. They walked right through to the door, now all-too accustomed to this new state of being. As soon as they entered and looked down at the empty floor, Harry started hyperventilating.

"Potter… did we remember to lock the door?" Draco asked, eerily calm. His hands were in his pockets and he swayed back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Harry shot him a look like he was about to murder his disembodied spirit with a sharpened toothbrush. "Are you kidding me? Who would take our bodies?"

Draco shrugged again. "Filch? This is a broom closet, right? Figures he'd—" Harry was having an anxiety attack and sliding down the back wall. Draco, unsure of what to do, simply patted him on the head and said, "Uh… need a hug?"

"No, you moron!" he sputtered. "I do not want a fucking hug! I want my body back!"

Draco tried not to laugh but seeing his once worst enemy so openly distraught was absolutely hilarious. As for his own body, he was all too ready to die three hours ago. Why would he care about his body now?

"We have to tell Dumbledore, Moody… someone!" Harry shouted, taking Draco's knees and shaking him.

Draco kicked him off gently and sat down beside him on the floor, thinking clearly for once. It was much easier to be open-minded without his obvious physical charms to distract his train of thought. Though, Draco suspected this only ever happened to men.

"Who knew we'd be here?" he pondered aloud as Harry began trying to pull out his hair, uninhibited by pain. "I mean, what are the chances someone just stumbled onto our bodies?"

They sat in quiet for some time, taking in the possibilities. Harry especially found it harder to move without his physical body as an anchor. The natural state of a projection was to stand still, to glide and float but not walk. That had to be simulated, forced, and it got tiresome quickly.

Draco was struck by an epiphany and shot up onto his feet. Harry looked up slowly, drained by his hysteria. "Pansy!" Draco shouted with a little hop.

"What? You told _her_? I didn't even tell Ginny but you go and spill to Parkinson?"

"You told Weasley, didn't you? Just in case? Since Hermione's out of the castle, I had to tell someone who knew how to care for me. We just have to find her and I'm sure she'll help us. She's a lot more helpful than Weasley ever could be."

Harry stood up too, his own mind reeling with misplaced anger. "Hold on. I might have a way to find her. I own a certain map that—"

Draco instantly interrupted, realizing the plan. "The Marauder's Map! Yes! That's brilliant!"

"How the bloody hell do you know about the Marauder's Map?" Harry demanded, his hands on his hips.

Draco shrugged lamely. Harry was growing increasingly tired of the shrugs and his irritation was written all over his thin face. Draco felt suddenly compelled to confess. "Hermione told me. Sort of. I might have overhead and asked her about it. She wanted me to know about Sirius, that he was important to you."

"So you know about the Marauders too? About my father?"

Draco looked genuinely apologetic. "I'm sorry. She just wanted me to know you better so we could get along. We apparently have a lot in common."

"Fine," he finally caved. "But I don't like it, Malfoy. If you ever even so much as think of using anything you learn against me or my friends, you better believe I'll hunt you down and feed you to Fluffy, the Three-Headed Dog. Understood?"

Draco stifled the urge to laugh and gestured for Harry to lead the way to Gryffindor common room in search of the map.

-----

Hermione and Narcissa left Lucius with the face of a man realizing his whole world was based on an illusion. He had thought his son was his greatest achievement, a doll molded to his ideals. He thought his wife would be forever loyal and follow him right into the darkness with a brave face. He had thought MudBloods were beneath his family, sores on the mouth of society.

And now, what was he? A prisoner while his ideals collapsed.

"Oh! Before I forget! Can we please visit the hall with the veteran prisoners?" Hermione asked and Narcissa happily turned right through the long stone hallways.

"What do you want here?" the beautiful lady asked, relief evident in her voice. "Has someone you know been imprisoned?"

Hermione shook her head and explained, "No, no. Not me. Pansy Parkinson sent me on an errand. Her brother, James, was apparently a Death Eater during the first war and she wanted me to send him a message while I'm here. She's so worried about him."

Narcissa stopped dead in her tracks, reaching out onto the filthy prison walls for balance. The Dementors, who had kept their distance until now, were slowly closing in on them. Hermione reached out for Narcissa's sleeve but she only pulled away harshly. She spun around and towered over Hermione with dark, menacing eyes.

"Don't bother. He's not here."

"What? Pansy said he was captured years back."

Narcissa drew closer to Hermione's face so she'd understand these words were meant to be taken seriously. "He's dead. Understand? Let it go and tell Pansy to forget it."

Hermione took a step back, cowering slightly. She felt small and guilty of some great crime she didn't even know she'd committed. "I'm sorry," she said, only because it seemed like an obvious reply. She was desperate to break the painful silence and even deadlier stare.

The Dementors started to back away again as Tonks' small figure broke through with a smile as bright as the sun itself. "Ready to go?" she asked, completely ignoring the elephant in the room.

"Yes," Narcissa snarled, following Tonks back to the invisible carriage. Hermione didn't open her mouth the whole way, staring down at her hands tangled uselessly before her. She played with the signet ring, swirling it around her middle finger. It calmed her immensely to have something of Draco's. She didn't know how he could make her feel so safe when she was the one constantly rescuing _him_.

They mounted the carriage and Tonks was about to give the order to return to Hogwarts when Narcissa's hand landed gently on her knee, gesturing for her to stop. "We're making a few stops first, Tonks dear," she said, suddenly sweet as could be. "I promised my son I'd take Hermione out for the weekend and we shouldn't travel so late at night anyway."

"Excuse me?" Hermione interrupted. She hated having others wheel her around without her consent. Of course it had to be Draco's doing. The whole thing was starting to get increasingly suspicious. Why would he need the _whole_ weekend alone?

_Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it._

"Where to?" asked Tonks, her eyes lighting up yet again. It was like travelling with a freakin' light bulb.

Narcissa smiled slightly for the first time, her eyes turned diabolical, and answered, "Diagon Alley. We have some shopping to do."

"I don't understand," said Hermione, looking down at her clothes. She did seem utterly ordinary compared to them. Narcissa had her obvious classical beauty and Tonks had her spirit and originality. What was she? Book smart? That didn't translate well into clothes.

"No excuses and no whining," warned Narcissa. "You're engaged to a Malfoy. You must look the part, my dear."

At this, Hermione's eyes came close to popping right out of their sockets. "EXCUSE ME?!" she shouted, looking from Tonks to Narcissa and back again. They both had such knowing smiles, such expectant eyes. "Engaged? Why would you think—"

She looked down at her hands, at the ring she spun around her middle finger, and it suddenly made sense. Narcissa took her hand and extended it to Tonks so she could inspect the ring, sliding it gently off to get a closer look. "Oh yea," said Tonks. "That's definitely the Malfoy seal."

Hermione shook her head, sending her hair flying about messily. "This isn't an engagement ring. It's just a signet ring. You use it to sign letters. He just gave it to me to annoy his father, probably. We're not engaged, I promise."

Narcissa and Tonks shared another look and Hermione felt all the blood in her body fill her cheeks. She gave an awkward laugh followed by a loud gulp.

"Don't worry, dear," said Narcissa. "We're only joking, not that it wouldn't be marvelous. A few months ago, we didn't believe Draco would ever have a family, especially not with your shared affliction."

Now they were just being cruel. She wasn't at all ready to be the next Mrs. Malfoy. Hell, she couldn't even sleep with him without going into panic attacks. "Then why are we going shopping?"

Narcissa gave a classic Malfoy shrug, her smirk mysterious and daunting. She made Hermione feel like the ant beneath the magnifying glass. Always. "Well, I did promise Draco to keep you entertained. And, frankly, you look like a hermit."

Tonks giggled and settled back in her seat, playing with Draco's ring against the light. Hermione watched the whole ride to the hotel, a strangely misplaced jealousy in her eyes. She despised seeing it in someone else's possession, toyed with carelessly, as though it and Draco had already become a part of her.

-----

Draco waited outside the portrait of the Fat Lady as Harry said the password and stepped inside. She eyed him curiously, scanning him up and down. He wondered if he was slipping away without noticing, if he no longer had a body and his projection was becoming transparent. He wondered whether he'd stay a spirit and be allowed to follow Hermione forever. She didn't have to know. She could go on and marry and have kids and he could watch her from afar.

_Is that wrong of me?_ he thought. _Is it wrong of me to want to be in her life even after death?_

He told himself it was of course the separation. It was strange not having said goodbye. He kept thinking he could just go up to their room and find her laying there in bed, tangled up in his silk sheets with that dreamy expression he so loved.

The Fat Lady cleared her throat and opened again. Harry shuffled through, trying to escape the series of shouts trailing him. He looked angry and above all, annoyed. His hands were empty and curled up into white knuckle fists.

"Come on," he practically growled, clutching Draco's shirt by the collar and dragging him down the hallway toward the moving staircases.

"Where to? Where's the map?"

"Your room. Blaise is in the Quidditch field, probably has been all night. You're right. Pansy took our bodies off to your room. I suggest we move before she starts playing doctor."

Draco froze, so suddenly that Harry's hands slipped from his collar. "Crap," whispered Draco, raking his hands through his hair. "I'm an idiot. Why did I ever tell her what we were doing?"

He started to sprint then run towards his room. Harry tried to keep up but it was harder to move a spiritual body than a human body. It wasn't automatic. He had to think about each trot up and down the moving stairs.

"I chucked her last year for a single reason…" he began, huffing through the hallways towards Liam's portrait hole.

"She was maniacal and loved herself more than she loved you?" Harry suggested smugly. "You were both exactly alike?"

Draco pretended to laugh. "No, you jackass. She was too aggressive… sexually."

"So?"

To a guy like Harry who only ever figured out the one position, it was hard to imagine what Draco meant. Ginny had only just presented him with see-through knickers and he still had to be coerced into taking his socks off because his feet always got cold. He could never imagine that Pansy would have her own collection of paddles and leather whips in various shades of black. She'd once tried brown but it didn't hide the blood well enough. She had her outfits, which she quickly tired of, except for the corsets with the little leather loops for his hands so he could hold onto her hips better while they—

Draco rolled his eyes, tired of playing the choir boy around Harry and the Trio. No wonder Hermione was such a prude sometimes. "So, imagine you're a 17-year-old girl with an insatiable sex drive and two male bodies to toy with. Alone!"

Harry let out a low string of curse words and ran ahead of Draco. "Liam, open up!" he demanded the portrait. "Pansy, you put down those toys!"

The little boy cowered back but didn't open. Draco sighed and said the password but Liam still refused to open. "Potter, tell him you're sorry for yelling at him! If you ever want to be able to look at Ginny in the eye again, apologize."

Liam shook his head. "He doesn't have to apologize. I can't let you in because I already have a Draco Malfoy inside. Your password doesn't work. I'd be stripped of my frame if anyone ever found out I let two of you in."

Harry began to bang his head against the wall in frustration when he suddenly realized that his head could go right through if he so wished. So, he shot Draco a devious smirk and walked right through the wall, ignoring Liam completely. Draco apologized to the boy, gave him a two-second explanation, and walked through after Harry.

They entered into Hermione's room but it was surprisingly empty. They shuffled quietly through the connecting bathroom and into Draco's room, poking their heads with great dread in their hearts. But, as soon as they saw their bodies happily resting on Draco's bed, Pansy sitting in a chair nearby with a book in her hands, they relaxed.

Harry turned to Draco and punched him in the arm. "You scared the life out of me!" he hissed. "I thought my unconscious body was being raped by a 90-pound dominatrix."

Pansy giggled and set down her book face down on her lap. "Ninety pounds? You flatter me, Harry. Though what could I possibly do with two unconscious bodies? Honestly, Draco, I thought you knew me better than that. I like them awake and screaming."

Draco crossed his arms and looked at her accusingly. "Really? How do you explain the guest room at Malfoy Manor during my mother's spring mixer?"

Harry grimaced and went to hover over his body, ignoring them both. "Dear God, is that what I look like?" he mumbled to no one in particular.

"Ginny is a saint. We know," commented Draco though Harry stopped paying attention to his retorts a long time ago.

They both sat on the bed and rested back atop their bodies, becoming corporeal once again. Harry took Hermione's bed for the night and Draco gave Pansy his while he took the floor. He honestly didn't mind. Though he knew he and Pansy were more than capable of restraint, he didn't want to give even the slightest hint that he was interested in her again. He was lonely, not suicidal.

As Harry snored away in the next room, Pansy leaned over the edge of the bed and whispered, "Hey, Draco? You awake?"

"Yup," he answered simply. "I don't like to sleep when she's not here."

There was no need to clarify who "she" was. Pansy twisted her mouth in a strange, concerned scowl, and said, "I'm worried, Draco. Blaise is capable. He can easily take you down without you looking. Those astral bodies are still—"

"Are you… Are you seriously worried about me?" he asked, sitting up on the floor. His t-shirt clung to him. He felt feverish and cold. He reached up to caress Pansy's cheek, the only sign of affection he'd shown her since they'd parted ways. "Maybe there's hope for you yet."

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_Ah! The Quarter Moon Gamble is at 500 reviews! We got to beat it, guys! REVIEW! I would love to know how to improve this story, anything you'd like to see. I take requests. Lol. _

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**THIS CHAPTER'S QUESTION:** _What part will Pansy play within the Golden Quintet?_

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**Reviews are better than shopping with the future mother-in-law. Ha!**


	28. Daydreams in White

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: **_Daydreams in White_

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_Yay for quick updates! You have the new Star Trek movie to thank. I just got home from seeing it so I won't be sleeping for the next week. My mind is freakin' blown by its trekkie awesomeness. Shout-out goes to GreenEyedBabe and ebbe04 for figuring out the chapter question last time. It should prove to be hilarious later on. Lol. As for the signet ring, its meaning is sentimental to Draco and Lucius alone. It's not some ancient thing and Narcissa really was kidding about the engagement. Enjoy the chapter. _

_Also, for all the moms out there who read my work, __**Happy Mother's Day!**__ This one's for you. _

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The girls arrived at Hotel Gravita an hour later. The sight of it made Hermione cringe. There were such good and bad memories within these walls. She remembered the awful dismembered bodies of the two Death Eaters but, just as easily, she remembered consoling Draco in his bed, his head on her lap as they killed time. She remembered Ginny being thrown across the room and Draco defending her, proclaiming his love for her to her beloved friends. Whatever relationship they had, it had been cemented in this place.

Narcissa ordered a large suite and, being her beautiful self, they upgraded her to the very top floor without even asking. Hermione felt herself blush as she walked beside her. She must have looked like an elf beside her, so short and meek in comparison. Narcissa walked with such a confident stride, her head up high. Her husband had been sent to prison, her son had been publically disgraced as a werewolf, and yet she walked as though she owned the world. Given what she'd seen of the Malfoy estate, it might just be true.

"Is this hotel important to you?" asked Hermione. "Draco brought us here once and I was wondering if it was important."

Narcissa shook her head. "We don't own it, if that's what you're wondering. Not anymore. It's just a pleasant place with good service in a fitting location. We've stayed her on a few occasions."

The suite had four rooms with four king-sized beds. Hermione wasn't used to the extravagance and she thought she'd never get used to it. Just as she took in the grandeur of Malfoy Manor, it was abandoned to the Ministry without a second thought. How silly of her to think it was precious. Everything was expendable to a Malfoy. They could have anything and so, everything meant nothing. She was proud as ever to be born into a modest home with such caring parents.

She left Narcissa drinking tea in the kitchen and settled into the room with the balcony, not that they'd brought much to settle with. Apparently, Narcissa didn't care for heights and Tonks was staying up to keep watch anyway so she happily claimed the view as her own. It was well into morning but the breeze was too delightful to go to bed now. She took out one of the books from her bag and rolled one of the plush seats out into the balcony. It wasn't the wisest move but no one was after _her_.

She read by wand light for an hour before her thoughts could no longer fit inside her mind. She tossed the book back onto the bed and crossed her arms, the chilly breeze no longer comforting. She grew restless without Draco beside her, without being able to watch him through the open doors that linked their bedrooms. She liked watching his chest rise and fall, steady as a metronome, lulling her to sleep.

"You shouldn't be out here," a soothing voice whispered behind her. She jumped to her feet, reaching for a wand she no longer had. It was only Tonks, who looked as though the light bulb within her had been dimmed significantly. It was the lack of light, Hermione was sure, that made her eyes seem so overcast and stormy. Her dark hair, now to her shoulders, was raked back effortlessly. She looked… normal. And, Hermione soon found herself longing for the crazy girl with the rainbow hair who seemed invincible.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think it mattered."

Tonks extended an arm, signaling for her to enter. "You mean you didn't think _you _mattered," she answered softly, giving her a small, sleepy smile. Hermione closed the balcony doors behind her and sat beside Tonks on the bed. "You do, you know. The Malfoys practically have a protection contract on your head. Everyone knows you can't harm a Malfoy without getting your ass kicked by the Order now."

Hermione scoffed. It used to be that _her_ name protected _him_. Now that they'd gone more or less public, it was the other way around.

"Can you tell me about the change?" asked Tonks timidly, turning towards 'Mione and hugging her knees on the bed. "How it happened?"

"Uh… well, sure. Draco was asleep in his bed. We have adjoining rooms so I heard him calling out in his sleep. He has these horrible nightmares, you see, even now. I went to wake him but he pretty much attacked me and practically tore off a piece of my chest. He tried to heal me up best he could and when I woke up the next day, I was a werewolf."

Tonks smiled. "You say it so easily, as though it's a part of you already."

"What? The werewolf thing? It's a breeze, as long as I have Draco. I can't imagine how Lupin stayed sane all this time alone. Ever since Pettigrew turned and Sirius was sent to prison, it's just been him."

Tonks nodded and stretched out a hand towards Hermione's arm. Her grip was firm so both knew this was serious. "I need to confess something, 'Mione… I asked for this assignment."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows and gestured for her to continue. Both knew where this was going and Hermione didn't like it one bit.

Tonks took a deep breath and continued, "I asked because I needed to talk to you alone. I need you to do me a favor… to bite me."

Hermione started laughing at the hilarity of it and pulled her arm away. She stood from the bed and glared down at Tonks, her nostrils flaring. "Are you insane? I know I make it sound nice and everything but I'm a _monster_! Draco and I are _monsters_. We could snap at any moment, hurt the people we love. Our sheer existence makes us a liability. Look how the world treats us, how we are shunned. Nobody knows about me yet but Draco's life is ruined if anyone finds out the true circumstances of his change. Why would you ever—"

"BECAUSE I LOVE HIM!" shouted Tonks, standing proudly with tears in her eyes. "I love him and I see what it's doing to him to be alone!"

Hermione crossed her arms, her objection strong and evident. "Lupin? You're ruining your life for Remus Lupin?"

Tonks' bottom lip began to quiver. "I thought you would understand. You were there when Draco after turned. You know what it's like to see them suffer and stand helpless beside them. I want you to turn me too. I'm already an outcast to my family and the ones I truly care about will understand my decision."

Hermione shook her head again, her jaw painfully clenched. "Ask me another day, Tonks. But not today and not until you've thought this through."

"I've been thinking about this since I heard the new conditions of your change. I've made my choice, Hermione. Maybe not today but someday you'll make it true. You'll make me like _him_," she said and turned around, back to her post. Before she slammed the bedroom door behind her, she shouted, "And don't go out onto the damn balcony!"

Hermione reached for the book on the bed and tore it to pieces. There was no point in pretending anymore. Her books didn't matter. Her life's goal didn't matter. She was just a tool for others. Maybe it was nobler than most lives but it still stung mercilessly.

On one of the ripped pieces of paper, she began to write down a message for Draco. In the morning, she'd use one of Narcissa's owls to get it to Hogwarts. It made her feel strangely better, as though she were sending a little piece of herself to him. She couldn't stand to think him alone with those Slytherins. Not now. Not ever. She would count the moments till their reunion.

-----

Draco was woken by the sound of an owl tapping at his window. He so hated being woken this way, the way one might hate the wailing of an alarm clock, but it happened so often that he'd grown used to it. He'd gotten no more than an hour of rest and it showed in his slowed step. He was starting to miss his astral body.

He rudely threw the coin out the window yet again and came back towards the bed, scratching his thigh and staring down at the ripped piece of paper. On one side, there was writing like it'd been ripped out of a book. It wasn't a good sign. He unrolled it and read to himself as he went to turn on the shower with his free hand.

_Dearest Draco,_

_I miss you so terribly. I couldn't sleep so I'm so tired that I can barely form words anymore. We should be back by tomorrow morning. Please be waiting for me. I worry you're trying something risky. I can feel it. _

_Please. Wait for me. _

_Hermione._

He folded up the piece of paper and hid it into one of the open drawers of his vanity table. He undressed and slipped into the shower. He closed his eyes and let the warm water soothe his tired body. When he stepped out, Pansy was leaning against the marble sink beneath the wall mirror with a Polaroid camera in her hands. She had on the most iconic Slytherin smirk of evilness he'd seen since… well, himself. Last Tuesday. She took a quick shot of him naked, dripping wet, and smiled brighter. She shook it over her head tauntingly.

She made a small moaning sound, looking him up and down with lustful eyes. "Oh how I've missed the view."

Draco didn't bother covering up. It wasn't anything she hadn't seen before and he was sure he could hold her down now that she didn't have the whips or the fluffy handcuffs. "Yes. Whatever. Get your fill because as soon as Hermione comes back, you're going back in your dungeon, sweetheart."

She giggled, slipping the little square picture into her bra for safe keeping. "Does that mean we get to play while she's away?"

He rolled his eyes and she had his answer. She didn't look too disappointed, merely bored, and threw him a towel.

"I don't know why you play with my heart so, Draco," she continued, watching him dress. "It's not like she'd ever know, nor would it mean anything. I'm sure she wouldn't mind even if she did know."

Draco stopped buttoning his shirt and looked up at her through his eyelashes. "Yes, I'm sure she wouldn't mind," he said in an ominous voice, signaling her to cease her advances at once. "Doesn't mean I'd ever do it."

She ignored his signals completely. "Hmm… trouble in paradise? There are few reasons a girl like Hermione would let her boyfriend kick it around the bucket a couple times. She either knows she's not good enough to fulfill your needs or she's got her own playthings on the side. I highly doubt the latter, don't you?"

Before he could control himself, he'd taken hold of Pansy's dainty wrists and pinned her against the mirror. "I've told you before," he growled, his lips hovering over hers. There was no fear in her eyes. "You don't mess with me and Hermione. You don't make little back-handed jokes or ridiculous accusations."

She just seemed to smile wider, feeding off his anger. She knew it only meant she was right. "I love it when you play rough," she whispered with a smile, going to kiss him. Harry cleared his throat from the doorframe and Draco jumped back like she had the plague.

"Jesus, Potter! You scared the shit out of me!" he yelled.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head disapprovingly. "Who'd you think I was? Hermione?"

"It's not what it looks like."

Pansy smirked and slithered off towards Draco's room to gather the rest of her clothes. "Funny how you think he cares," she said, her back to them. She nodded towards the potions resting on the vanity table and warned, "Finish your business today if you want to see your pretty little thing again."

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Morning came and Hermione trudged after Narcissa and Tonks into Diagon Alley with a sour expression. Narcissa looped her arm around Hermione's and dragged her into the first dress shop they saw, humming all the while.

She sat the girl down on an overstuffed sofa in the corner and started calling at sales girls. "Liven up, sweetheart!" she rang joyously. "Just imagine the look on Draco's face when he sees you in black chantilly lace. I understand it's his favorite."

Her smile was devious. She was plotting something. Tonks looked even more tired than Hermione and browsed the mannequins with bored eyes, inspecting under the skirts to see what made the dresses so damn puffy. To her surprise, it was a large metal cage. She turned to Hermione and they both raised an eyebrow.

To someone like Tonks who took little value in words and who held no grudges, this was as much of a peace offering as an olive branch. Hermione smiled and let her shoulders fall, relaxed. She sat lamely in the chair, looking tiny in the large seat as she dangled her legs over the edge.

Narcissa threw a pile of green clothes in her lap, then yellow, then blue. "These will go lovely with your skin color," she chirped and pulled Hermione into the dressing rooms. She shut the door behind her, imprisoning her with all those silly, puffy clothes. She knew Draco. He didn't care for the giant metal cages. He preferred seeing her naked and strategically wrapped in his silk sheets. The sheer thought alone made her smirk. Another moment for her collection.

She looked through and tossed half of the dresses back over the dressing room door. "Are you crazy?" the sales girl asked in a haughty voice. Her hair could be seen over the door, along with all the little plastic birds she'd adorned it with. She laughed at high society sometimes. "This is haute couture!"

"Sorry," Hermione responded, pulling her sweater over her head and folding it on the bench beside her. "I don't speak French, love, nor do I care. If I'm going to dress up for him, I'm doing it my way. And there's no way he'd care for me dressed up like an 18th century pub wench."

Narcissa snickered on the other side of the door, her back leaned up against the door with her arms crossed. Tonks took her place on the oversized chair and watched, utterly amused, as Hermione walked out in the first dress. It was her favorite by far, an apple green sleeveless dress with heart-shaped neck and white embroidered corset. The skirt reached mid-thigh, layered in a satiny material that made her look like a blend between Tinkerbell and a slutty prom queen. She sighed as she picked up her hair over her head, testing how it'd look. Even in this beautiful shimmering dress, she felt utterly ordinary.

Tonks let out a wolf whistle that hurt Hermione's sensitive ears. She shot an annoyed smirk back at her then went to try on the next dress, not bothering to take in the approving look from Narcissa. If she truly objected to a dress, she'd rip it off Hermione before letting her buy it.

Hermione went through the pile, even the expensively decorated jeans and graphic tees she so loved. When she got to the bottom of the pile, she noticed one Narcissa had snuck in as Hermione had tried on one of the black lace slips. It was white and simple, with thin white straps and a tailored bodice. It fell on her natural waist before falling gracefully to her knees.

It was not silk or satin or anything shiny. It felt like cotton and she imagined herself on the beach somewhere. She imagined Draco sleeping bare-chested on a hammock, the wind ruffling up his now long flaxen hair. She saw herself walking barefoot across the white sand and sliding into the hammock beside him, nestling into the nook beneath his arm.

She walked out of the dressing room to the three full-length mirrors outside. Tonks was reading a magazine as Narcissa came walking back with even more clothes. She caught sight of Hermione in the mirror, dressed all in white, and dropped all the clothes onto Tonks' lap.

"Hermione… you look…" she began but stopped herself. She just smiled and rested her palm dreamily on her cheek, watching from afar.

Hermione stared at herself in the mirrors. In this dress, this elegant simplicity, she felt like herself. She looked over her shoulder at Narcissa and softly said, "I know what you're doing. I know you're just dropping hints, with the ring and now the dress, and… I appreciate it. But you don't need to. I get it, why you want me to watch over him so much, but you don't have to worry. I'll never leave him, Narcissa, because I know he's not his father. And I don't need an engagement ring or a wedding dress to make me feel like his mate. I love him."

Narcissa smiled and looked down, giving her a nod. "Are you still going to get it?" she asked guiltily, avoiding her eyes.

Hermione rolled her eyes and rested her hands on her hips. She desperately wanted that honeymoon on the beach. Even if she could never get the honeymoon, she'd get the dress if only to keep the fantasy alive a little longer.

Both Tonks and Narcissa beamed, deciding they'd shopped enough for one day.

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Harry and Draco downed their potions and walked the halls as they did the day before, leaving their bodies hidden under Draco's bed this time. Though dusty, it was easier on their limbs than the box they'd called a closet before. They came to the Great Hall for breakfast and Draco sat down at the Gryffindor table.

The whispers and gasps started up again. They knew Hermione had left the castle and it only served to feed the flames of gossip a little longer. Was she off getting an abortion? Did she go back home after a bitter break-up? Did she leave because she found Draco fornicating with Harry instead?

The Patil sisters were the least discrete, conjecturing right in front of the boys. Draco shot them a devilish smirk, leaned in across the table, and whispered, "Would you girls like to join us? I'm a little shy myself but Harry here's always up for a foursome."

The girls huffed and stood up, pretending offense. They stormed off as Harry slammed his head on the table, his ears going red. "Malfoy, you lunatic," he mumbled. Ginny started cracking up and went to kiss his cheek but her lips passed right through his skin. She drew back, a little startled.

"Are you going out again?" she whispered by his ear, her voice shaky and hoarse as though she were stifling tears.

He lifted his head slightly and locked eyes with her, mirroring her concern. "Yeah, I'm going back."

"You don't have to, you know," she said soothingly. "You can always stop."

Draco listened in, staring at his peas with a strange fascination. He fumbled with his hands on his lap and worked to muffle the guilt growing in his chest. He'd grown to care for these people. It was infectious, this need to care for others, especially for them who had fought beside him and Hermione despite their obvious differences. Even Harry, his greatest rival for six years, had become a welcome sight on their late-night broom races through the grounds. And so, out of respect, he only listened and did not interfere.

"It's already begun, Gin," he replied, reaching up to caress her cheek. She shivered slightly, not expecting the cold of his skin on her.

Draco felt someone watching him and instantly looked up to the Slytherin table. Blaise and Pansy were locked in a passionate embrace, which didn't surprise him in the least. Slytherins didn't practice romantic entanglements very often so he was sure it was purely physical. But no, their eyes were quite occupied.

He looked over to his left, across the table. Ron was glaring at him as though Draco had just slept with his mother. In short, he looked mutinous. Surely, Harry had told him about Pansy and him this morning, he thought. Draco rolled his eyes and pretended to take a sip of his orange juice.

"I promise I didn't touch her, Weasley. You don't have to castrate me with a dull spoon or whatever Gryffindors do to cheating boyfriends."

Ron furrowed his brow, confused. "Actually, I was going to tell you that if Harry gets hurt, my sister gets hurt. And if my sister gets hurt, I'll make you dig your own grave. Understand?"

Draco turned back to Harry and Ginny who shared a slow kiss. Harry had to concentrate very hard on being corporeal so he didn't break their astral cover. Draco nodded and understood for once what it was like to have a little sister to watch over, a friend to watch his back. His actions had consequences, not just to his family but to his _friends_. What a strange sensation warmed inside him now.

"I understand."

But it was already too late. They had provoked the beast, one which had just broken from Pansy's venomous lips and was signaling for Draco to follow him outside with searing dark eyes.

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**THIS CHAPTER'S QUESTION:** _Is there a wedding proposal on the way? Whose?_

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**Reviews are better than steamy reunions and stormy confrontations.  
**_Oh yes. It's coming next. Three chapters is more than enough time apart, thank you very much. _

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Many thanks to j2poet for being an awesome impromtu beta!


	29. And the World Begins Again

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: **_And the World Begins Again_

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_Check out the pics on my profile of all the dresses featured in LLDM so far. Some are sketches but most are pictures. Enjoy. Kudos to metarisenja, hawklawson, and j2poet (my happy beta) for correctly answering the question last chapter. The answer to a previous question is answered in this one actually. _

_And for those of you like myself who enjoy a little background music with their fluff, I recommend "Fix You" by Coldplay for below. Actually, the lyrics pretty much sum up my version of Draco and Hermione perfectly. It's always about the lyrics with me. Lol. Oh! And Goo Goo Dolls' "Better Days" for the ending. I've added both to the official playlist on my profile. Have a listen!_

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Ron followed his line of sight and met Blaise's eyes. He turned back to Draco and let out a short string of profanities. "You idiot!" he hissed. "_This_ is why you sent Hermione away?"

Draco didn't take his eyes off Blaise. They both looked to the entrance, their minds square-set on blood. "Watch out for them," Draco whispered to Ron. "And if something goes wrong, tell Hermione to open the third drawer from the top as soon as you see her."

"What? You're just going out there—" he began but Draco was already on his feet heading out of the Great Hall. He looked back over to Harry and Ginny, who were still trapped in a slow kiss. Resigned, he sighed and sat back down, deciding he'd respect Draco's reason for going it alone.

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Hermione helped Tonks with the bags. She felt sick at the sight of them, even without seeing the bill. They were on the path back to Gravita, walking silently from the café where she and Draco had talked what seemed like a decade ago, when Narcissa clutched her arm and dragged her into a little boutique. She'd been doing that all day – pulling her one way and another – but this was different. This was a hair salon.

Hermione's heart fell out her mouth and she struggled with every bone in her body to escape Narcissa's hippogriff-like grip. "No offense, Narcissa, but hell no," she growled. "I'm putting my foot down."

Narcissa spun around and growled, quite seriously, "Then I'll break off the foot and carry you inside myself… It's just hair, Hermione darling. It'll grow back."

Hermione had no idea how the woman could sound like she was trying to kill her one moment and utterly enchanted by her the other. She dropped her shoulders and let the madwoman drag her around, too tired to give a damn. She sat in the chair and closed her eyes, letting the lady with the ridiculously long scissors snap away at the only sense of identity she had left.

Ring or no, she was apparently now a Malfoy.

The more the lady cut, the more her resolve evaporated. She sighed and wiped away at the single tear that escaped her. She didn't know if anyone saw it and she didn't care. She was on her hammock, swaying in the breeze with Draco. And soon, she'd be in his bed again.

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Draco just kept walking out of the castle, hearing Blaise's footsteps behind him. He didn't know how far away he could project his astral self but he wanted to get as close to the Quidditch field and as far away from the castle as possible. He got to the entrance onto the field and heard Blaise call for his broom.

_So this will take place in the sky_, thought Draco, calling his own broom and finally facing him on the field.

"You're a fool," said Blaise, smirking madly. "You've made it too easy for me. No witnesses and no wards. All's fair on the Quidditch field."

He opened his arms out, gesturing to the vast expanse of nothing. Draco smirked, seeing himself in his enemy. He took in Blaise's posture on his broom, the way his cheekbones jutted out of his skin as though the tension in his heart had spread to his dark face. His hands were unsteady on the broom handle and Draco knew all too well what he must think of his life right now. Draco had forced him, he knew, with his public treason. Voldemort had given the order, not Blaise. But it didn't matter now.

As much as he saw in Blaise of himself, Draco understood now that he'd always had the choice to do the right thing, even before Hermione's strange morality imprinted itself on his psyche. He had passed his mission to kill Dumbledore on to this poor, pitiful boy with the mad glint in his eyes. But, unlike Draco, Blaise had no real fear. He didn't want to kill Draco because he had once been a friend, not because he was a human being. Blaise believed he was part of a greater race and that those beneath him had to obey or die. He had no obligations to his family, only to his own beliefs and his chosen master.

Draco told himself this over and over as they drew their wands at the same time, both frozen in mid-air. He knew that whether one of them died or not, Blaise's life would be ruined after this fight.

They hovered for some time, waiting for the other to strike. "I don't want to hurt you, Blaise," Draco offered, knowing it meant nothing to either of them. Want didn't fit into the equation. It never had. There was only duty and honor.

"Stupid traitor," spat Blaise. "Do you think that matters to me? You knew this was coming since the beginning. Since we both walked into Hogwarts and you realized I was the competition!"

Draco laughed humorlessly. "You were never the competition, you silly boy. I was bred to be heartless, a perfect soldier. I was swallowed by Dark magic since the day I was _born_. You just liked the club manifesto. There was never any competition. I was always meant to lead."

"Are you trying to get me to strike first or do you just like hearing yourself speak?"

Draco smirked and said, "Can't it be both?"

Blaise rolled his eyes and shouted suddenly, "Expelliarmus!"

Draco's wand went flying out of his hand, landing on the ground below. Before he could make sense of Blaise's sudden speed, barrages of spells were being barked at his head and he instinctively sped off round the field, trying to dodge him. One caught his arm, making his eyes go feral and his speed increase to reckless levels.

Just as he reached the edge of the field, he dove rather than fly over the stands. He broke through the flags and ducked beneath the rafters, zigzagging between the stands. Blaise couldn't keep up with his motions. He was swerving so quickly.

Just as Draco resurfaced from beneath the rafters, sure he'd lost Blaise and now had a clear line of sight towards his fallen wand, two cloaked figured emerged out of nowhere and blocked him on either side. He couldn't swerve without knocking into their large, glob-like shapes in the corners of his eyes. They didn't have to remove their cloaks for him to know they were Crabbe and Goyle. Nobody in Slytherin house rivaled their girth and height.

He also knew they were rubbish with wands and moved too slowly. It didn't matter since they crashed into him at the same time, crushing his tiny body between their massive shapes. He couldn't go astral or risk passing right through his broom onto the far ground below. Instead, he tried to fly closer and closer to the ground.

But, Crabbe and Goyle just pulled back and collided into his sides yet again. _Just freakin' great_, he thought miserably, trying to shake them off. _I'm the cream to their Oreo cookie._

The drifted away again and Draco relaxed too much for too short a time. Blaise had escaped the rafters and was watching, his wand in the air before Draco, waiting with a smug smirk to take him down once and for all.

_Just say it_, Draco thought, shutting his eyes. _Just say it once and you're cooked. Do it. Kill me, you coward!_

"Avada Kedavra!" shouted Blaise, waving his wand dramatically over his head with a proud smirk. Draco felt something cold strike his chest and his whole body went limp. He never got to reopen his eyes. His body impacted the earth below and he felt the dent on the ground around him. He was lying in a small crater, but he knew he was still alive. He wondered for how much longer. Nobody but Harry Potter had survived the Avada Kedavra curse and, as much as he hated to admit it, he just wasn't as lucky as Potter. There was no one there to protect him. He'd sent the only person who truly cared about him away.

_Her. You're doing this for her… Goodbye, Hermione, dear. I hope I've made this place just a little bit safer for you and your beautiful books._

That's when he heard the husky voice from Mad Eye and Dumbledore, both spouting disarming spells at the three figures standing around his shattered body. Strangely, though he was sure he could feel several sharp objects protruding through his body – most likely his own broken bones – he was not in pain.

_Huh. Curiouser and curiouser. _

He heard Dumbledore's slow footsteps and the shuffle of his robes as he bent down on the grass. "It's all right now, Draco," Dumbledore whispered. "Sleep."

All the voices disappeared, the numbness too. He was aware of something soft beneath his head—a pillow? He opened his eyes and realized he was back in his room, his bed. He was woozy and the world was still spinning from that fall but his body was intact and his spirit was rejoicing with his win. He'd done what he set out to do since he switched sides. He incriminated the infiltrator before he could get to Dumbledore and open the doors to the Dark Lord. Blaise would either be incarcerated or expelled, since he technically didn't kill anyone. Voldemort had no access now to the other students, not until Christmas vacation.

He let out a huge sigh of relief and heard something orange, tall, and fuzzy in the corner chuckle. "Weasley, that you?" he croaked. Though he wasn't in pain, his soul seemed to have dragged back a little of the trauma.

"Relax, man. You're fine." The orange fuzz walked towards him, dragging the vanity chair beside the bed. "Go back to sleep."

"_You_ told Dumbledore?" Ron nodded. He was smiling and Draco got the strangest sensation that he _owed_ Weasley something. Ugh. That was going to leave a bad aftertaste if he ever said it aloud. "Why?"

"Same reason you went out there at all."

"Stupidity?" he groaned, collapsing back down with his hand over his eyes.

Ron chuckled again and it made Draco want to punch him. His head was still spinning like he had a hangover and Ron, the little bastard, was taking a little too much pleasure in his pain.

"No. Hermione," he corrected, sliding into his chair. "Now, go back to sleep."

Despite the confusion, he shook his head. "I don't like to sleep without her. I get—"

"Nightmares. I know. She told me. Look, I know I'm not her but me and Harry will keep watch from the other room. You're safe now, man."

_Safe. Ha. I'll never be safe as long as this monster lives inside me,_ he thought but he drifted off to sleep nonetheless, too exhausted to prove Weasley wrong.

-----

Hermione stared at her emotionless exterior in the mirror. The lady had stopped cutting minutes ago but she was still in a strange sort of thoughtless state. Strange for her, that is. She just didn't recognize the person in the mirror. This girl was pale as she was, had the same large chocolate eyes, but her usual mane of bushy brown hair was smoothed down and cut just above the shoulder. It was the same color, she knew, but it somehow looked blonder. She wondered if it was this new inner Malfoy-ness seeping through her scalp. And it fucking curled at the ends. Instead of pin-straight as usually done to contain the damage, it cascaded in waves and layers. God help her, her hair had _depth _and_ style_. She couldn't pretend to be just a bookworm anymore.

"Well?" the lady asked Narcissa, not Hermione. Her opinion was irrelevant.

"She looks lovely! Thank you, Contricia!" squealed Narcissa.

Tonks noticed Hermione's distant expression and knelt down before her. "You okay, kiddo?"

"I think I'm going to barf."

"You look beautiful, you know."

Hermione nodded and gave her a small smile. "Thanks. I still feel like a fake though. A MudBlood in—what was that thing?—haute couture is still a MudBlood to these people. I don't like to pretend. I never wanted to be like them."

Narcissa suddenly turned her attention back to the girls, having obviously overheard. "Don't you dare speak that way!" she snapped. "What would Draco say if he heard you now?"

Hermione shrugged and followed them back to Gravita. She packed everything that night and waited for the sun to rise again on her balcony, doing homework to convince herself she was still the same old girl that mounted that invisible carriage Friday night. Sometime around dawn, she finally slipped into bed. Exhausted, she plopped down above the covers and didn't get up again for four hours.

She expected to dream of the usual things, maybe even hammocks, but all she saw was a gray mist within the darkness of her mind. She knew she was dreaming, as one usually does, but she felt much too lucid to be fully asleep. The exhaustion had brought something out of the shadows, a mist that she fought to walk through.

"Draco?" her dream self cried out. "Is that you?"

Of course it was him. She knew that gray anywhere, even in dreams. She knew the feeling she got inside the mist. His eyes. When she looked upon them, even the memory of them, they ignited her down to her bones.

"Can you hear me?" he asked timidly.

She smiled brightly in her bed, caressing the pillow as though it were his face. "I can hear you but I can't see you."

He laughed and it made her feel like his arms were wrapping around her, warmth spreading all the way to her toes. "I'm working on it. I just wanted to see if I could do it, if I could find you in all the noise."

"Can you feel me like I feel you?"

"No," he answered sadly. "Are you on your way back?"

She reached out into the mist, trying to draw the warmth closer. She delighted in it, demanded more until it burned her alive. "Yes. Did you wait for me?" she whispered, feeling the connection dropping away.

She could feel his smile as though it were her own. "I'm waiting now."

She let the mist wrap itself around her outstretched arm, feeling more and more like skin. "That's all that matters then."

-----

The castle was different the next morning. Hermione and Draco had slept through the beginning of the worst. Students had been expelled for trying to kill one of their housemates. This was worse than Slytherin versus Gryffindor. This was Slytherin versus Slytherin, good intentions versus pride. Allegiances were being questioned all over the world. And all the while, they slept.

Though nobody knew the real circumstances for Blaise's attack on Draco, they could piece most of it together from public knowledge. They did not, however, know the extent of Hermione and Draco's connection. Her condition was still safe. He was the monster taking advantage of an innocent, sweet-minded dreamer with a Hagrid-like soft spot for magical creatures and that's the way it should be, according to him.

Harry and Ginny were taking their turn watching over Draco. They were afraid any Slytherins might try to finish the job and they couldn't stand to see Hermione's face when they told her they let her boyfriend get killed. Again.

Ginny kept going to check his pulse to see if he was still alive. She expected him to drop off any moment but Harry knew better. He knew the curse was instantaneous, that he would have died already if he'd truly been affected and not his astral self.

It was October the 6th and Draco was still alive. The castle was waiting on _her_ to celebrate. Hermione had woken just enough to make it to the carriage then fell asleep again. Therefore, the ride was considerably shorter. When she opened her eyes, reluctantly, she could see the lake in the distance and the castle and the Quidditch field and the Whomping Willow, which nearly struck them as they landed abruptly, overloaded by shopping bags.

She didn't wait for the carriage to stop completely before jumping out and running straight through the light lunch crowd. When they saw her, they knew to part. Nobody had seen Draco since it happened. They could only assume he'd been harmed and, despite her dreams of his warmth and reassuring smiles, she feared it too. She ran upstairs and mumbled out the password to Liam before skidding into her room. She looked around and saw Harry and Ginny's school bag on the floor by her bed. She pulled open the bathroom door and her eyes landed squarely on the blond figure in bed.

Harry jumped up, startled. "Whoa! I almost didn't recognize you! Are you trying to give us a heart attack?" he hissed, his own heart now as quick as hers was from running. "Relax, 'Mione. He's fine. He's just asleep."

"Is he—Did he—" she began but had to bend over to catch her breath. They could more or less figure out what she was saying, in between grunts. "He had me so—Why the hell are you here if he's just asleep?"

Ginny stood up, obviously bored out of her mind with her book in hand. "We were just making sure he didn't have any nightmares. But he's all yours now. Harry and I are going to commandeer your room for a while since we haven't slept all night ourselves, watching his pasty little self snore away."

Hermione smiled brightly and hugged them both, perhaps a bit too roughly. They eager took their chairs with them into the next room. "Love the hair!" Harry called as Ginny dragged him away and shut the door behind her. Hermione watched them go before slowly turning back towards Draco. He slept on his side, his hand up by his cheek. He wasn't snoring but he was surely sound asleep, dressed in his Hogwarts robes.

The smile was still plastered on her face. Oh sweet home. She dragged her feet towards the bed and reached out to caress his hair back from his eyes. She whispered his name sweetly into his ear but he just muttered something unintelligible and continued dreaming without her. He turned from his side to his back and nestled back in. She watched for a few more seconds, remembering the boy she'd met all those years ago and the boy who landed half-dead on the Weasleys' dinner table.

She remembered Lucius' words back at the prison, all that hate smothered beneath the surface. She tried to imagine Draco capable of that hated, smothered or otherwise, and couldn't. She'd been right. He was a greater man than Lucius could ever be. He could never hurt her, not with words or hands or anything of that matter. Screw the werewolf books. She wanted him, all of him, buried deep inside her.

And, most of all, she wanted desperately to prove to him that he was not a monster like his father. She wanted to show him what her words back at Azkaban had proved: that he was loved. Always.

She thought back to all those fairytales where the prince kisses the princess and she'd wake up from the hundred-year sleep, longing to see his gray eyes upon her again, surveying her with that deep-seeded lust he so poorly hid. So, without an ounce of regret or hesitation, she began her show of affection and bent down to kiss him softly on the lips.

He returned the kiss and she knew he was finally waking. She didn't deepen it, merely moved her lips along his jaw, towards his neck. She wished she could have reached that spot on his clavicle but his clothes were in the way. She knelt onto the bed and threw her leg over his, straddling him in her new black skirt and white, button-down blouse. She was starting to think she picked out that outfit for today subconsciously knowing she'd need something easily removable. As much as she liked Draco's feats of strength tearing up her favorite blue dress, she did not want a repeat of that night in any way or form.

He moaned, his eyes still closed, and moved his hands up and down her thighs. He threw his head back and she could feel his excitement beneath her.

"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy," she said, quite proud of herself that she could excite him in his sleep. She tried to feign a sultry voice but she could never quite muster the act and her voice sounded too different for a moment. "I have a little surprise for you."

He grimaced and let his hands drop down to the bed again. "Oh God, Pansy, just go away. For the third time, I do not want to sleep with you."

"PANSY?" she shouted. "Pansy? What the hell would Pansy be—"

He opened his eyes, startled awake, and smiled brightly up at her. "Hermione! You have no idea how happy I am to—"

"Pansy?" she growled again through gritted teeth, her hands on her hips still atop him. The anger was making her cheek rosy and flushed and the sweat from the run was making her once perfectly wavy hair stick to the back of her neck most uncomfortably. She went to pull it back into a ponytail and get up off him when he caught her wrist.

"Don't you dare touch that hair," he warned. Yea, he could do the whole seductive thing so much better. Even when he sounded rude and demanding, it made her wet her knickers with anticipation of his touch. "And relax about Pansy, would you? I'm a gentleman… most days."

She made a huffing noise. "It's the nights I'm worried about!" Her body went slack, wanting to reclaim the lust she'd felt when she first saw him lying there. It was only natural they argue about the silly, insignificant things though. It was their way but it needed to be set aside just for that day. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to be romantic and, well, we both know dreadfully well how much I suck at it."

He suddenly realized his physical state and her curious position atop him, her blouse half undone and the lingering feeling of warm, wet kisses all along his face. He smiled and pulled her down atop him so they'd be chest to chest. He kicked off the sheets and rolled them so he'd be on top, locking her wrists up by the sides of her head.

"Don't move," he whispered as always, licking the spot below her ear. _Damn him. _He was good, she had to admit.

"This time," she warned, undoing the buckle on his belt rather forcibly, "Don't you dare stop."

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_Next chapter's all about the repercussions it'll have on the school and more Draco/Hermione fun, including flying lessons. Time will move a bit quicker because we have to get to Christmas at_ some _point. Lol. The proposal happens then during a very hilarious argument. Nope, it's probably not who you think. _

_Might post the complete sex scene next chapter if you guys really want to read it. But, finally, they do go through with it and it does not suck. Yay for them! _

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**THIS CHAPTER'S QUESTION:** _What secrets still wait to be uncovered at the mysterious Malfoy Manor?_

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**Reviews are better than escaping certain death. **Well, you know, not really but you get the idea. Review!


	30. To the Point

**CHAPTER THIRTY: **_To the Point_

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_**This could be the final chapter**__, ladies and gents. Look at the bottom for how to vote. And now… picking up where we left off for all those citrus fans out there…_

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He suddenly realized his physical state and her curious position atop him, her blouse half undone and the lingering feeling of warm, wet kisses all along his face. He smiled and pulled her down atop him so they'd be chest to chest. He kicked off the sheets and rolled them so he'd be on top, locking her wrists up by the sides of her head.

"Don't move," he whispered as always, licking the spot below her ear. _Damn him. _He was good, she had to admit.

"This time," she warned, undoing the buckle on his belt rather forcibly, "Don't you dare stop."

He shook his head. "No ma'am!"

He gave her a little half-hearted salute and proceeded to remove his robes and shirt while she attacked his pants, almost quite literally. He had never seen this fury in her but he was quite sure it was closer to lust than anything else. Her hands were trembling though it did not slow her down. He slid off her and fully undressed, tossing the clothes by the foot of the bed.

She didn't bother with her own clothes. She knew he took pleasure in undressing her by the shift between quick and devastatingly slow rips of her blue dress back on his father's desk. Just as she predicted, he crawled towards her, his eyes overridden by the brilliant gold of lust. She held her breath without realizing it, anticipating his touch on her skin again. He was warm from the bed and smelled delicious enough to lick from head to toe. She knew it was this godforsaken mating instinct but she didn't care. He hadn't touched her yet and still, she was already riding strong waves of ecstasy.

She moaned his name as his strong, long hands slid up her ribcage. She arched her back and he brought his lips and his tongue to her sternum between the open folds of her white blouse. The buttons flew off with a single teasing hand, leaving her exposed to the chilly breeze from the window. She desperately wished his body atop hers fully, warming her shivering skin. She didn't care for foreplay. Her mind was already reeling with possibilities, her heart overflowing with emotions and the occasional spike of adrenaline as his lips moved lower.

"Oh fuck," she whispered, reaching up to the headboard for balance. He slid down between her legs and snuck under her skirt, revealing the flimsy green underwear. He smirked into her skin and pulled it off with his teeth. She lifted her hips and he brought it down easily enough, an animal in heat, too aroused to remember his hands.

Oh but how she loved those hands and their smooth, consistent motions below her waist. She let out a feral growl in the back of her throat and he took the hint. _Screw the games. Screw the foreplay. Just do me. _

He licked her exposed sex quickly, sending the waves of ecstasy crashing against her skin, before positioning himself between her hips and penetrating her in one smooth, clean motion. She shivered in his arms and he gripped her tighter. He wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her as he pulled out slowly and drove into her again, harder. She screamed and he rammed her again, deeper.

She let go of the headboard and covered her own mouth with her palm, her wild gaze fixed on his. He smirked devilishly but, as much as his face looked like her Draco's, this was not him. This was the monster inside him finally escaping, unleashed and unrestricted, governing her every physical need and desire.

She understood now why the boy in Lucius' office had hurt her so. He'd been forcing his animalistic element back. This was the real Draco who longed for her and cared for her and, she hoped, this was the real her smiling up at him with a silly grin.

As his thrusts grew more rapid, she began to separate her body from her mind. If she didn't think about the size of his organ as it stretched her open, gliding her own fluids easily inside her, the stronger the sensations. This wasn't pain. This was the greatest rapture of her life, to be swallowed whole by warmth and safety in the arms of the boy she loved, filled to her heart's desire.

It was in this out-of-body state – her eyes shut tight, her jaw clenched till it hurt – that she realized how grateful she was for all that had happened so far, for all the suffering that had brought her to this pinnacle in her life. How meaningless this moment would have been had they not parted, had her heart not been allowed to ache for him as she did those few days. She knew how futile it could have been to try reaching this summit of emotion with anyone else, terrified of ever sharing this beast inside. No one else shared it, not to this extent.

They rested and began again, slower each time until they were too tired to continue. This was their Sunday morning, evening, and night. Liam had to change frames for the day to avoid the noises.

Around 5:00 that afternoon, Draco finally stopped coming back for seconds and fell into a quick slumber. Hermione was coming back from the bathroom when she remembered the dress and the hammock, the cool breeze over the sandy white beach. This was just as good. No, better than any fantasy because she got to live it. She bit her bottom lip and watched him for a moment, his sheets wrapped around her as he liked. She wished he could see, wished for the gold ardor to resurface just one more time. She thought herself so selfish for not letting him rest.

She sighed and crossed the bathroom to her own room. Harry and Ginny had probably left three orgasms ago. To her, the walls were paper thin but she didn't know how it sounded to humans. She blushed but set it aside in her mind. She was beginning to adapt Draco's indestructible self-confidence when naked. Maybe it came with practice. Maybe it came with knowing he loved her body, every _inch_ of her body. She smiled to herself, picking up her bag and coat from the floor. She set them down atop the pile of clothes from yesterday's shopping trip, which the elves had brought up a few hours ago. She looked upon the pile wistfully. She was going to have to expand her closet exponentially for this. Something told her Narcissa wasn't going to stop there.

But, she decided she could always share them with Ginny. They were almost the same size, thank God, and that way she didn't hurt Narcissa's feelings. She had to admit it. The Ice Queen, as she and Tonks had started calling her in the dressing rooms, was surprisingly growing on her and vice versa. She heard a shuffle behind her but, lost in her train of thought at the sight of the clothes, she paid it no mind. So, when Draco drowsily asked, "What's with all the clothes?" she jumped half a foot off the ground.

Her hand flew to her heart and she turned around. He was leaning up against the frame of the bathroom door, rubbing his eyes and yawning. A sheet was loosely tied around his waist and was being held with his free hand. A little too loosely perhaps. She knew better than to avoid his eyes now. Confidently, she strolled across the room and planted a long, wet kiss on his neck.

"God, Hermione. Again? You are _insatiable_!" he complained lamely, letting her arms round his firm torso lovingly. She didn't go further than the kiss, knowing he was probably in pain by now. She was sure he hurt his back at one point as he took the top for the second time. He gave the strangest screeching sound as though in actual physical pain and reached for his back before shaking it off and continuing his thrusts. She had to give him that. He always finished.

"I'm sorry. I'll stop," she vowed, her hand over her heart. As she did, the sheet fell down and she didn't bother picking it up, her eyes fixed on his.

He laughed and wrapped his own over her shoulders. He gripped her arms over the sheet and gently pushed her back towards her own bed, sitting her down with a quiet plop. "I'm taking a shower," he warned as though she were an infant. "You're staying here. Understand?"

She dropped the heavy gaze and nodded, running a gentle hand along his left cheekbone. He sighed and shook his head, trying to get the images to fall out. When he turned around to head back to the bathroom, she noticed the scratch marks on his back and the guilt started to swell her heart. Had she done that? They were so red and raised, painful to watch let alone to don.

She called his name and he stopped, turning around with the demeanor of an old man with a broken hip. There was still a lot of pride beneath the guilt. She pointed at him. "Do those hurt?"

He tried to look over his shoulder and noticed them for the first time. He shrugged. "A little. No more than getting thrown out a fucking window."

"Are you never going to let that go?"

She furrowed her brow with concern, her eyes apologetic. She nodded, gesturing for him to go on with his shower without her. He left the door open, which to her was as significant as giving flowers, and stepped inside. She started rifling through her things for an outfit for dinner when the hot water turned on over his gashes and Draco let out a long string of curse words that sounded very much like, "Ducking Bun of a Fish!" over and over again over the sounds of the running water.

She chuckled to herself, knowing he'd be fine in the morning. Feeling adventurous, she pulled out the little silver thong and corset he'd suggested before and the usual uniform skirt and blouse with matching Gryffindor tie. She laid it all out on her bed just as Draco got out of the shower, skipping around like a little girl to avoid the burn of the water on his aching back and the cold of the tiles beneath his feet.

He scurried for his robe, announcing the bathroom was free and adding a few more expletives than necessary, not that they were ever necessary. "I'll be right in," she called back. She was starting to feel so… _domestic_. She imagined getting ready for one of those fancy dinners up at the Manor, if the Ministry ever declared it thoroughly stripped of Dark magical presence.

She showered quickly, dressed, and helped him slide his shirt over his back. His slashes were almost done healing but she was sure he pulled a muscle. He could barely move, poor boy. Lucky for him, he had near perfect posture which helped the pain slightly. It looked like his torso was disjointed from his legs when he walked as he tried to keep perfectly still. Hermione laughed and slipped her arm through his as they sauntered the halls towards the Great Hall for dinner.

A few students and Filch had to take a second look to make sure it was Hermione. Draco's hair color could be spotted from space but her own had been luckily limited to a much smaller zip code. Draco didn't want to say how much he admired it because, well, he didn't want to suggest he didn't love her just as she was before. He felt strangely proud to have her on his arm now that she was eternally as elegant and soft as she was on the inside, as he got to discover in private all those months ago.

"Do you think they know?" she asked in a mousy voice only he could hear.

He laughed and struggled to pull open a door for her onto the moving staircases. She knew not to help him and bruise his ego. He wasn't the only sore one though. She was sure she was walking bow-legged, though it was all in her imagination. She just kept wondering over and over again if they knew the sort of things they'd been up to, if the invisible virgin stamp on her forehead had been permanently scrubbed off. Would she miss it? Her mind relived that morning quickly and she internally kicked herself for even considering such a thing.

They saw the entrance to the Great Hall in the distance and Hermione froze. He stopped beside her and gave her her moment of fear. He gripped her hand tighter and they started again, heads as high as proper. Harry, Ginny, Ron, Neville, Dean, Seamus and the others all turned expectantly to the door at the emergence of blond hair in their peripheral vision. It took the other a moment to realize it was Hermione he was walking in with. She looked so different, in character as much as physicality. She wasn't literally glowing but she might as well have been to the onlookers.

The group shot them bright smiles, except for Ron who took a little longer than the others to realize it was Hermione, and scooted over for them to sit. They didn't pay any mind to the other groups who had quieted as before to watch them enter gracefully. Draco ignored the stiff pain in his back to give them his best Malfoy stalk.

"Evening, dears," greeted Hermione, a bright smile on her face.

Harry, Ginny, and Ron took in her expression with narrowed, suspicious glares. "Dear lord, they went at it like bunnies, didn't they?" Ron blurted out first. Neville nearly choked on a bite of carrot cake.

Harry and Ginny shared knowing glances. "We were next door for the first 20 minutes of it. We had to leave because we felt a sudden urge to find a priest and confess," answered Ginny casually. Hermione blushed and hid her face in Draco's shoulder.

"That was five hours ago," added Harry.

All the boys within earshot looked around at each other across the table and started clapping at Draco, who bowed his head. Even some Ravenclaws clapped along. Hermione slapped Draco and Harry lightly across the head but she knew this was part of the boys' bonding ritual. She continued to smile, despite the embarrassment, because she knew it meant they already accepted Draco as one of their own. Ginny caught her confusion as to why and answered her look softly, "You missed a lot this weekend."

"Do I want to know?"

Ginny shook her head and laughed. "You'd have a bloody heart attack!"

Hermione decided she didn't care. She got to hold Draco's hand all through dinner and she got to go to bed with him that night and class with him the next morning… Whatever he'd done to win over the favor of the Gryffindors, she was thankful it happened.

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_Ok! So! I can end it there and go on to write the sequel, which takes place in December, or just continue the story here as chapter 31 and on of LLDM. There's not a big time shift or anything. I just didn't want this to have so many chapters. You guys choose. REVIEW!_

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**THIS CHAPTER'S QUESTION:** _What oh what shall I title the sequel? Love, Lust, and Hermione Granger?_

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**Reviews are better than feeling just a little bit dirty. **


	31. Finite Incantatum

**NOTICE! NOTICE! NOTICE!**

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So the votes are in! And I've once again ignored them completely. Lol. The sequel to this story, now titled _**Lies, Loyalty, and Hermione Granger**_, can be found on my profile. I'm sorry for the hassle but please add it to your story alert list.

I love you all who've followed me this far and I hope you'll follow me for the next 30 chapters over at LLHG.  
_-Gracie/NeuroticMuse413._

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**Reviews are better than... well, as I think we've well established, a lot of things. **


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